Here I am again. I can’t get up out of bed. My stomach is always upset from anxiety and I have no appetite, I feel that lump in my throat and lethargic. I need to GET UP and be proactive and be a grownup and I’m getting irritated with myself for feeling like this and for not unpacking because I have no motivation left. I want to dig a hole and live in the dark wet dirt alone. I want to get in a clean car that has no spiders and go rent a studio apartment in south Tampa with air conditioning and only a mattress and a few cooking items. I am not ashamed for once to say that I can’t wait for my therapy session on Wednesday afternoon. The thought provides me with some comfort.