Today it got confirmed. I'm going to Thailand for rehab. Too much has gone on in my life recently and London has cracked me.
In my mind it's not real and won't feel real until I get there. Part of me is going what am I doing? I've been handed out benzodiazepines and managing to externally live a life hooked on them for the past 5 years whilst mostly badly managing bipolar. It's all just come to a head over the past 6 months. Mostly through sad things that have happened in life. I'll talk about it all more over the course of my first ever blogging adventure, if it is of interest, as I think it's best to just write about what's naturally in my head. Which is what the hell am I doing - I've never been to Thailand, why have I been given benzos like sweeties by my doctor for 5 years, I'm prrobably not going to get on that plane - which is now confirmed for beginning of February - and if I don't get on that plane my brain which is already showing cognitive impairments will slowly rot and me and my partner have no future to look ahead to. So all in all I should probably get on that plane.
Totally. Fucking. Terrified.