evil’s not my cup of tea

My new psychologist is great. I think. I still cant remember her name though.

She asked me “how do you know you are suicidal?” what on earth. I said “Because I would like to be dead?” Most of her questions were worded like that. “How do you know you feel anxiety?” “Because my stomach drops and i feel a jolt of something go through my arms and legs, my hands shake, my stomach burns, i get flushed and feel like i’m about to die or that i am about to be shoved out of an airplane.” we were very specific. She seems way smart and her hair was messy and she seemed laid back and unstuffy, all things I require in a psychologist. I am a teensy bit worried she will be the cheerleading type. You know the ones, you tell them things and they saw “Awww, thats so sad, it must be so difficult for you.” or “WOW! THAT IS WONDERFUL!” I dont need someone to echo my opinions or feel sorry for me.

She said that she didn’t like my old-age-suicide-plan and that i should consider “letting it go.” I don’t know why, it’s comforting. One of my fears is growing old and losing my mind and being a burden to strangers or being neglected and beaten and being so old I piss myself and don’t know where I am. So, in an effort to quell this fear, I have come up with the old-age-suicide-plan. If I haven’t already offed myself by the time I am old, I will commit suicide when I am 68 (or 70s, it depends on how bad my alzheimers is) by overdosing on heroin. I absolutley love this plan because the first time you do heroin, its wonderful like 20 orgasms on top of 20 orgasms but life is not worth living after that because you become hooked. SO I will feel fucking amazing, and then I will die. I won’t have to worry about addiction or bedsores or evil nurses.

and now i need to do my homework.