I wasn’t being difficult or defiant but for pretty much the entire time I saw my psychiatrist today, all I could say was, “I don’t care.”
i still don’t think I feel anything, which is fine except that my mind slips into dark places easily and now I don’t feel guilty or care about that. Usually the thought of hurting my loved ones makes me feel compelled to stick around but really, honestly I don’t care anymore. That’s not saying that I am going to end my life but I think about it a lot.
My psychiatrist decided he needs to double the dose of my antidepressant. “I don’t care.” I told him. He decided that I need to stay here a bit longer. “I don’t care.”
In group this afternoon most of the women were crying and connecting over something emotional. I sat there and didn’t feel a thing. Our facilitator told us it was okay to cry but I didn’t. I found it sort of amusing in a way. I’m usually a pretty kind and sensitive person but I just stared into the facilitator’s eyes to show her my lack of emotion.
creepy guy is apparently studying me for some sort of secret mission involving another human race.