robosagogo

Back at Penn State and, in record time, I hate myself and wish I was dead. Ahh, but it can't last. Hopefully I won't let it last.

I had originally planned to compensate for my propensity for mindless failure spirals by starting therapy before anything went wrong this semester, but my parents spent the past week drilling the fact that therapists are evil into my head while my dad implied that getting into therapy would be grounds for me having to leave school. I don't know if I should do it anymore. It didn't exactly help me last time, but I'd like to be able to talk about my problems without having to force uninterested parties into glummy conversations.

I need to make myself see my academic advisor as soon as possible, at least. A modicum of progress. Anything.

God, I probably don't even have any reason to feel this way.

(Several hours later): I feel better. I don't know, maybe it was the shock of being back and the culmination of way too much fear and stress.