My apartment is very, very warm. Hrm. *fiddles with thermostat*
So I tried some of the numbers the doctor gave me, and found another doctor that takes insurance (because my mental health is not worth $200 a session). I have no idea what language the receptionist was speaking, but all I heard was "therapist" and "refer you to someone", and I think I'm going to be talking to someone who will then refer me to someone else to talk to. Out of sheer spite, I wanted to call and cancel, but I forgot until it was too late. So in a few hours I will go... I don't know, I have no idea how these things work. I'll probably babble at someone until they tell me my brain is not broken, and then my mom can stop insisting that I am depressed and accept the fact that I'm simply a failure (there is a difference!). It may take a while, but I've worn her down this far already.
I need to drink more water. Gaaaaahhhh.... *shrivels and dies*