I gave in and called that psychologist person, thing...
I shouldn't be so harsh. I'm sure she's a nice, educated woman, who's passion is to pick at her victim's vulnerable brains. Much like a zombie.
My boyfriend's mother (in search of an alias, and proper noun, I'll refer to her as Mrs. Penguin) has been trying to persuade me to seek psychiatric "care" for about a month now. She believes I will feel much more at ease about the chaos in my life...by telling my secrets to someone I am determined not to trust.
My boyfriend isn't helping (I deem him 'Bastian', because there is an advertisement for Bastian products on the side panel). He advocates psychologists, and possibly Mike Cox. I feel comfortable talking him about everything, and that's truly all I need in order to feel content. I don't want a psycho taking his place.
Not that I want to dump everything on Bastian! Heavens, no. In fact, he always seems to know when something is wrong and then pressures me into spilling my guts. Perhaps he is a zombie, too.
This would have been posted yesterday, but Dad chooses to unplug the router when it is least convenient for myself.
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