Vulpecula (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
0cosmicgorefox0) wrote2024-01-03 02:53 pm
0cosmicgorefox0) wrote2024-01-03 02:53 pm
Entry tags:
1/3/2024, Life proceeds
I'm doing more for myself in school than my parents ever tried to do for me.
I suppose that comes with the territory of recovering and learning self-advocacy.
I've arranged for a meetings with the college disability office for accomodations to make next semester and onwards a bit easier.
I'm on seroquel to help with the anxiety of today's stress's, which has included reapplying to my school under a different degree program to work around the financial aid required-credit system, reapplying for financial aid for next semester- an application which I'll have to recheck, as in my anxious rush to get things done, I may have overlooked something. I'm concerned I did, at least. Better safe than sorry with these government documents.
Top surgery is yet another day closer. It cannot come soon enough, regardless of the trouble it's caused me in organizing my classes this semester.
I'm glad to have the support of my advisory and mental health team. Stressful as this may be, I feel that I am doing what is good for me. It feels stabilizing- to take control of my life.
I worry about my little cat. She's my emotional support animal, but I think she may need her own emotional support friend. It makes sense- animals prefer to have a friend to go home with. Many animals people keep as pets are very social, and it's kindest to bring them home with a buddy of the same species.
She needs another kitty she can groom and cuddle with. I want to make that happen soon, but I need to be a little more financially stable, first.
I can make this work.
The more i recover, the more I see that the shallow attempts of my birth parents to set me up for success were largely projections of their feelings and moral decisions onto me, without room for interpretation. It damaged me. I want to be better, and I will be better. I think that I am better, now, than I have been in the past. And I want to keep going- to continue.
Difficult as it may be, it's worth it to keep living.
It is an hour later from when I started this journal entry, as of writing. I have met with the disability resource center and found it blissfully easier than I worried to get accommodations, although some require a letter from my therapisit affirming certain diagnosises. I'm not concerned, particularly. My therapist is good and works with me quite well.
And life continues :]
See you later
I suppose that comes with the territory of recovering and learning self-advocacy.
I've arranged for a meetings with the college disability office for accomodations to make next semester and onwards a bit easier.
I'm on seroquel to help with the anxiety of today's stress's, which has included reapplying to my school under a different degree program to work around the financial aid required-credit system, reapplying for financial aid for next semester- an application which I'll have to recheck, as in my anxious rush to get things done, I may have overlooked something. I'm concerned I did, at least. Better safe than sorry with these government documents.
Top surgery is yet another day closer. It cannot come soon enough, regardless of the trouble it's caused me in organizing my classes this semester.
I'm glad to have the support of my advisory and mental health team. Stressful as this may be, I feel that I am doing what is good for me. It feels stabilizing- to take control of my life.
I worry about my little cat. She's my emotional support animal, but I think she may need her own emotional support friend. It makes sense- animals prefer to have a friend to go home with. Many animals people keep as pets are very social, and it's kindest to bring them home with a buddy of the same species.
She needs another kitty she can groom and cuddle with. I want to make that happen soon, but I need to be a little more financially stable, first.
I can make this work.
The more i recover, the more I see that the shallow attempts of my birth parents to set me up for success were largely projections of their feelings and moral decisions onto me, without room for interpretation. It damaged me. I want to be better, and I will be better. I think that I am better, now, than I have been in the past. And I want to keep going- to continue.
Difficult as it may be, it's worth it to keep living.
It is an hour later from when I started this journal entry, as of writing. I have met with the disability resource center and found it blissfully easier than I worried to get accommodations, although some require a letter from my therapisit affirming certain diagnosises. I'm not concerned, particularly. My therapist is good and works with me quite well.
And life continues :]
See you later