The computer guy is trying to recover the data. It may work. It may not, and then I'd get it back tomorrow with a new hard-drive.
I thanked my father softly.
My mother asked, "No response?" in the other room. They hush-hush discussed my interactions.
I am trying to care. Of course I want my laptop and my data, whatever I can get. And I'm thankful.
But more than that I want to not be holding back tears every time that I'm speaking something. I want to not have the urge to run into a secluded room, curl up and cry for months.
I want to be a better, more stable person. I want to be a better student. I want to be out of this funk.
Once more, I want to not care about this all like it's life or death, like I'm the most important frakking being on this planet. I want to stop being so self-centred and stop regarding my problems as reigning supreme. Instead I'm getting the fake numbness, inability to speak well, urge to disappear.
...these are the exact symptoms I had when I was 15, before and after my worst hip operation. Good gods, at least that made SENSE. It was a terrible recovery period and a hard time.
This is over fucking SCHOOL WORK. I am so sick of all of this. I don't even know who to go to anymore. Looks like it's another trip to counselling when I'm back to uni, just so I can be told that I sound incredibly sane, am doing well, shouldn't be concerned and no they don't know about getting me a therapist.
I am sorry for abusing your flist. I really am. =[ This is only so I don't explode inside.