I saw my counsellor today and found out that my support worker, the person who set it all up and took me, will be off for quite a long time and I won't see him for ages. I have 6 more appointments with the counsellor but now I have the bother of trying to get there on my own. I don't ever go out on my own really let alone go out of town. So I spose I'll have to pay for a fucking taxi. The other thing is none of them really know. They want me to see a doctor about my PMS symptoms, but I can't. I can't go through that. I am not up to having massive panic attacks and being sick that go with it, I'm sick enough from the fucking PMS. Damn then and their happy happy happy bs. I am not happy, I am not positive and I don't enjoy doing positive things. My heroes are not the cushy Jesus feed the 5000 types, my heroes are people who stayed people and may have died young, been drug addicts or killed themselves, but they stayed true to being only a person. One thing is certain in life, and it's that one thing that makes me happy. Stone cold death.