I am so anxious about having to move my stuff from CA back to VA. I don’t know when, I don’t know if I’m getting any help, I don’t know how much I can bring with me. It’s driving me crazy and it’s ruining my sleep. I’m so stressed I keep waking up every two hours to worry about it more.


I’ve lived in this apartment for a year and I’ve accumulated a lot of stuff (I have a slight hoarding problem) and I am agonizing over what stays and what goes. Who I can give things to. What I can ship, and if the shipment gets lost (I lost a box of very important, personal books last time I mailed something cross-country). I keep coming back to the conclusion, in my diseased mind, that it would be easier to just kill myself rather than deal with moving. Obviously I’m not going to do that, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts.


I am also freaking out because I don’t know how I’m going to bring my pet rat with me. Ideally I would ship him somehow or bring him on the plane with me, but I’m not sure how to arrange that. The other problem is my mother hates rats and has a vicious terrier that will likely kill poor little Professor Hojo if she gets to him. The other option I have is giving him away to a friend or fellow rat lover in the area, but I really don’t want to part with him, he is such an important part of my life and I would miss him horribly. Again, thoughts of just killing the rat and then killing myself, which I obviously will not do but, again, cannot stop thinking about.


I know moving is hard for everyone, but moving back in with one’s parents because you are too debilitated to care for yourself is just twice as stressful. Multiply that by the stress of OCD and you get a completely fried Hildico. I have been picking my skin like crazy from the stress, there are blood spots all over my pillows and sheets from picking at my face and shoulders and basically anywhere I can find a scab or a mole. It’s disgusting and I really hate it but cannot stop.


Ugh. I feel a little better from venting, but still, I can’t stop thinking of just hanging myself off a tree in the park or jumping into traffic. D: I’m so sick of these suicide obsessions, I just wish I could take double Klonopin all day every day…


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