First time in 6 months that I got up the will to get my hair done. I was feeling pretty good about myself, but then the intrusive thoughts found their way in. She said, “well, gotta look pretty for your coffin!”
I hate this disease. I hate that I’m only as good as the next “crash.” 
I feel like no one understands, and no one wants to be bothered. 
10 month waiting list for a therapist and 12 month wait for a new psychiatrist. 
I do everything right: take my meds on time, no drinking or drugs, I exercise, eat right, yet: the darkness gets in! 
Why? How? Why can’t it just leave me be?