Leapfrog00
Member
I've been having a lot of trouble making decisions. My judgment is so clouded. I live in an apartment building full of drug dealers and addicts, and they keep me up all night, and they're always waking me up. I think the lack of sleep is messing with my anxiety. I keep getting suicidal thoughts that come and go. Should I tell my therapist about this? I don't really want to be put in a psychiatric ward. From my previous experience, the people that work in those places are ********. Even the doctors, they don't seem to listen to their patient's concerns.
I don't have any friends I can talk to. I miss having people to talk to. My friends use to help me out of these situations all the time. I can't trust anyone. I have so many problems since I moved here. They're getting worse. I was working on my novels to take my mind off of things, but I don't even feel that I'm a good writer. Everything seems pointless.
Everything keeps piling up. Last year, when I was homeless, my diabetes got so bad, it got exhausting. Especially from the blood sugar crashes. I can say I tried. I failed at everything. Nothing ever gets better, ever. I want to talk about this to my therapist. Hell, my car got towed a couple of months ago. I have to rely on my insurance to take me to therapy. I think they only give me so many rides, so I'm probably going to use up all those too. Nothing ever works out. When I go to sleep, every night, I just hope I die in my sleep. I don't care about anything anymore. I have no friends, I haven't dated in a year. This apartment I live in has cockroaches that come out of the walls. At night when I turn on the bathroom light, about a dozen of them crawl across the floor. I probably deserve this.
Should I talk to my therapist? I miss having friends to talk to.
I don't have any friends I can talk to. I miss having people to talk to. My friends use to help me out of these situations all the time. I can't trust anyone. I have so many problems since I moved here. They're getting worse. I was working on my novels to take my mind off of things, but I don't even feel that I'm a good writer. Everything seems pointless.
Everything keeps piling up. Last year, when I was homeless, my diabetes got so bad, it got exhausting. Especially from the blood sugar crashes. I can say I tried. I failed at everything. Nothing ever gets better, ever. I want to talk about this to my therapist. Hell, my car got towed a couple of months ago. I have to rely on my insurance to take me to therapy. I think they only give me so many rides, so I'm probably going to use up all those too. Nothing ever works out. When I go to sleep, every night, I just hope I die in my sleep. I don't care about anything anymore. I have no friends, I haven't dated in a year. This apartment I live in has cockroaches that come out of the walls. At night when I turn on the bathroom light, about a dozen of them crawl across the floor. I probably deserve this.
Should I talk to my therapist? I miss having friends to talk to.