So, today was the day I lost it. I knew it was coming, and come it did, exactly six weeks in. For the second week in a row, my therapist failed to get in touch with the TLLC porgram, which means I am still stuck only going for three hours a week, rather than being there ALL day, EVERY day, which is what I really need. I am at a fucking TREATMENT center. All I am asking for is TREATMENT. I know what I need to be doing, I need to be learning how to take care of myself. I don't need to be sitting in the fucking villa, or going on little field trips to the bookstore. I KNOW HOW TO GO TO THE FUCKING BOOK STORE! There are so many immature idiots who are getting in trouble at every turn who are getting to level up faster than me, for no reason other than their therapists are actually paying attention to their needs.
When I found out things still hadn't been taken care of, I burst into tears. I am so angry. I am so so so so angry. My parents won't help me because they don't trust me about anything. Whatever my therapist says is always right. Even if I say otherwise, other therapists say otherwise, anyone. It doesn't matter that many therapists have led them astray over and over again. They are inclined to believe ANYONE over me.
I raged. I didn't exactly yell but I cried and carried on quite a bit. I haven't done that since I've been here but I did today. And I let the lady in charge know that I need a new therapist. If she's not going to help me get well, I will find someone who will.
I felt a little better after going to the YMCA. (Eew, I'm becoming one of those people who talk about the emotional benefits of exercise!)