Packing my things.
Tomorrow I go in for stitches on my wrist.
Most likely my doctor is going to have me go inpatient.
I don't know how to feel about this. Just, fuck. I can't believe I let myself mess up so much.
I'm sorry, Tiger.
Packing my journal, picture of Tiger, some rad socks, a pair of jeans, a skirt, sweatpants, sketchbook, two books, makeup...Shit. I don't know what else to pack.
Shaking. Crying. I don't want to leave. I don't want to go tomorrow. How am I going to get out of this?
I mean, there's nearly no way he won't hospitalize me. Aside from the fact I need to get stitches, my vitals are shit. My temperature is under 94, my heart rate is 40 beats per minute, and I'm pretty sure something is going on with my kidneys because they hurt like a bitch and I'm being like, brown. Gross.
I don't know what to do or say. I feel like I should say something very final, very optimistic, but I feel drained. I feel like I should say something to Tiger aside from iloveyous and imsorrys. But I don't have words. Hopefully I can call her before tomorrow just in case.
update- Fuck yes. I'm going to go see my other doctor, Dr. M, instead. She's rather nice and is the one that wants to keep me out of the hospital. Yay! So hopefully when I visit her sometime this week [not tomorrow] she'll just perscribe me the pills she wanted me to have and send me home. It'll be too late for stitches on my wrist by then, but it'll be fine.
intake;
1/4 cup oatmeal made w/ 1 cup water, 1/2 tsp Splenda, 1 pinch cinnamom [eaten in 15 minutes]
9 green skittles [eaten in 10 minutes, 243 chews]
3 bottles water
i won't let you say goodbye, and i'll be your reason why.
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