My mom (who sat at the hospital with me until about 2 in the morning) wishes I had told them I didn't want to go home, and my husband really doesn't know what to do with me. My shrink doesn't know yet although I'm sure she will soon. I think all the records are electronically connected.
Once I add up all of the things that drove me to drink in the first place, I just want another drink. My fears and worries (or terrors) are still there. I know there's no problem that drinking ever solved. But I just don't know what to do.
I'm newly on Prozac again. I had quit it after like 5 years or something because my memory was zero. It was really bad. I'm just hoping it gets me through cosmetology school and then I can quit it again before it gets bad. The doctor at the hospital tells me it takes 4-6 weeks to get up to working level though.
At the moment, I have a 2 week leave from school. I have to go back on the 13th.
I was doing SO well!!!! I was really excited about school, and taking all of the volunteer opportunities we have, and then just all of these things happened and it was like rolling down a mountain and bouncing here and there before landing straight on my face.
Embarrassed, but alive. I'm still trying to get the blood out of my carpet, it looks like a murder scene, and I have 10 staples in my wrist. I wish I would've opted for stitches since my husband could just remove those himself --and save myself the visit to the doctor.
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