I’ve been shying away from writing because it’s depressing as hell but today I say fuck it, it’s my blog and I’m about as depressed as I have ever been and I get to write about that if I want to. I’m back at work and it’s awful and I’m having a hard time getting transferred to another position, so I sit and shake with stress and anxiety all day unless I dope myself up on Ativan, which makes it difficult to get work done, which makes a stressful situation even worse. And I come home every day and cry like someone has died because I’m carrying all of this around and there’s no relief. I’m not okay and I feel really alone with it, and I feel like after this second hospitalization people wrote it off as not as big a deal as the first time, or like it’s routine after a second trip and there’s no need to check in or ask how I’m doing. So whatever, here’s the answer: NOT OKAY. You can’t fix it, but you can show me you care by occasionally asking. Asking matters and makes me feel like people think of me and want to know, and it helps. The end.