panic room

called in sick today. (bitch i spoke to was all attitude, but she can get fucked.) was hoping to hold off on using another sick day coz i got an limited number of them and this might be my last "safe" one, but when you're sick you're sick. and if i ever needed a mental health day...

apartment's a lot emptier now. there's still a lot here that's been left behind. stuff of hers to be donated or sold or thrown away. but it's a strange sensation. i'm trying to cook myself something right now and i'm realizing all the things that aren't here anymore. it's weird to feel a stab of pain at realizing that i'm not going to be using a certain pot anymore. no blender. down a cutting board.

this weekend was one of the toughest. horrible panic attacks. little sleep. need to pull myself together. need to breathe.