Hello you sweet readers. I may have to go a little quiet for a bit. See, I'm not doing so well. After a diagnosis from a doctor relating to my pain not being treatable, I have been thinking that life really isn't worth living like this for another 40 or so years. It is not a fun thought to have but sometimes you get to a point where you stop caring.
I have been told that surgery isn't likely to help me long term. The idea of driving into the concrete divider, or drink wine and down a few boxes of opiates became something of a viable option. So I saw my psych with Husbfriend in tow and we decided hospital was the go. We called around to find my options and, well, there aren't many good ones.
First of all, I'm still waiting to hear back from Belmont. Both my psychiatrist and the admissions desk. Second option was for me to go to Ipswich Hospital. I've been there for mentalhealth issues before and they treated me like and amoeba on a flea on a rat. Fuck that again. So our third option is to drive in to the city to the RBWH, and pretend that I had my mental break on there. They should admit me as a public patient and then move me off to Belmont within 24hours. Fingers crossed.
Problem is, dear reader, I will loose access to technology for a spell. So if I don't post, don't despair. If anything serious occurs, Trent can inform you.
Otherwise, see you on the flip side. Sunny side up.
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