I decided to cut my session short with my new Psychiatrist. There is something about her that makes me uncomfortable. I felt like she could see far beyond my facade. I have worked hard to construct that facade. I rarely look past it myself. It was quiet disconcerting. I'm almost scared to go back.
Now I have to go meet my psychical therapist. I Don't really see why. I have resigned myself to the hand fate has dealt me. Why must we pretend that I will get better. Is this what life is like here?
I've no time for cake.
I bid you adieu
Ellie
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