...so i immediately got a job. A warehouse job. It's hot, and fairly gruelling, but it's honest damn work, and it beats sitting in a goddamn cubicle defending some asshole corporation against outraged and often selfish customers over a headset. It doesn't pay real well, and the hours are completely unpredictable, ranging somewhere between 9:30am and 10pm. Generally, i only know what my hours even are the day before my shift. Oddly, with hours like these, i'm only part-time.
But like i said, it's honest work. It's work. What else can i say about that?
Anyway, the point was that i had been worrying about how H, who now has a new alter who tries his best to scare her and feed her paranoia, would fare without me being around to help her or guard her against, as it turns out, herself.
And the first few days were not too bad. She has to take a scary taxi home from her job (she doesn't drive and never has), and sometimes she has minor freakouts, which she can usually sort of control with her Xanax and her Ativan.
Then, today, on my day off, she cut herself again. The first time in weeks.
Face, meet palm.
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