Tuesday, August 22, 2017


I didn't go to the office before seeing my psychiatrist at 8 a.m. I told her I wasn't feeling like myself. I told her about the urges to self-harm. She introduced the possibility of another medication that would lower my heart rate and thereby help with anxiety, but I asked we not change anything, as I believe whatever this is will pass. I didn't go to the office after the appointment. I wrote 449 new words. "It's my way of loving you when I can't." Yesterday I wrote those words about my new book. I worked on the new thescribbledvictims.com.