Olivia Felton
Bronze Member
In less than three hours I meet with this stranger who will decide on whether or not I qualify for SSDI. I have all my documentation, my journals, and my sister is driving me. I actually have to leave my house. I haven't slept. I have been singing my lungs out, but had to resort to taking a klonopin. Waiting for it to kick in.
Shaking like a leaf, knowing that the nature of the office will mean my personal space is going to be severely invaded. Nor will I be able to seat myself so I can watch all the exits and have my back against the wall.
Also afraid that with all this extra stress will kick my ocd into overdrive and I will end up straightening pictures, or be distracted by any mess left on her desk.
I hop that the bucket I hold my crazy in will not spring a serious leak and I end up back at the psych ward.
Shaking like a leaf, knowing that the nature of the office will mean my personal space is going to be severely invaded. Nor will I be able to seat myself so I can watch all the exits and have my back against the wall.
Also afraid that with all this extra stress will kick my ocd into overdrive and I will end up straightening pictures, or be distracted by any mess left on her desk.
I hop that the bucket I hold my crazy in will not spring a serious leak and I end up back at the psych ward.