So this week I'm sick.
Like as in the actual sick again, where I have the flu. I've been throwing up a lot and I really just sort of want to sleep.
Murdoch is a douche. I'm sick and he just keeps coming over and asking me about this stuff I don't want to talk about. Like he comes in and asks me "Have you ever wished death on anyone?"
Who even asks those sorts of things? Especially when the person you're talking to is leaning over a bucket and so sick she can barely sit up in bed.
Asshole. I don't wish death on people. It's not like that sort of thing is synonymous with schizophrenia. I always feel worse when he's around.
Peg and Miss Millman have been talking about talking me back up to the lake when I get better. Murdoch has been telling them that taking me out of my usual environment could make me explode or something, whatever, he's an idiot so I don't care what he thinks. Millman seem to think it might do my some good so I'm going to stick with the therapist who actually seems to know what she's talking about thank you.
Peg doesn't seem all that hyped about the idea and I assume that's because Murdoch has been poisoning the well. She says she doesn't know if being up there would do much good psychologically, but I think she agrees with Millman for the most part.
When you have a sickness like mine, everyone treats you like you're a loaded bomb. It gets pretty old. I'd really like to go back to the lake. I miss it. Might be fun to get away and stop having to be me for while. Although there's the chance that being me might ruin the whole thing, and I'll spazz out again. Break another window and get lost in my own head again.
I hate being me. I really do.
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