I've spent the past several years trying to become okay with leaving my house for things other than work or therapy. Well I'm not doing either now. And weirdly enough, I've already gotten back to a point in my progress where I don't even want to go out on my balcony, let alone get in the car and go somewhere or go for a walk around the block. Every time I try I just choke up. The only time I'm not on the verge of anxiety tears are when I'm in my apartment.

Went to my mom's for a little bit yesterday to hang out with my sisters and within 10 minutes I was freaking. She's wasted so much of her life stressing for/over me because of everything I've gone through. Constantly worried about if I'm taking my meds consistently, eating regularly, doing something besides staring blankly into the distance. I've probably taken like 10 years off this woman's life. I don't want her to worry about me now, and I'm pretty sure she didn't really believe my "bf's gotta work soon" excuse to leave and go home.