so since i can't be in the women's partial program while my client is there, i've been shuffled to the general adult partial program, and it's a crock of shit. i've been keeping tight notes on all the reasons why it's the wrong program for me. the short of it is that it has no trauma focus, and rather than teaching us, they lead open-ended discussions that rarely even keep to the topic of the group that is supposed to be happening. it makes me want to throw a chair at the wall, or sometimes the clinician. and it sucks because expressing my anger to my clinician makes her less likely to be willing to write me a nice, juicy, "this bitch is crazy" disability notice. christ.

i also saw my therapist today at the t station and she was like "i'll give you your space" and moved away. my old therapist never would have done that, she would have loved to chat with me if she ran into me.

i saw my favorite women's partial clinician today and cried to her about how much i miss her.

life is so pathetic.

my roommates called my father and told him that if i don't move, they will. that makes me very happy, because i hope they do. however i have no idea how true their intentions of moving are. i hope they are serious about it, because i hate them but i have nowhere to go.

except, that is, my father's house. but what would happen there is i would decide to basically live with vinnie, end up commuting between there and natick, and ruin our relationship by moving too fast. totally shitty. living with my family has never gone well, to say the least.

but, my dad IS the one paying my rent, so, fuck. until my disability gets approved i'm on welfare and his way is the highway, so if he decides to take their side, which he seems to be, i just might have to bite it and live with him. sucky suck suck.

i feel betrayed by my father and i fear that adam and my relationship is slightly unhealthy because all we do is smoke pot and joke about ending our misery, so i feel like the only person i have is vinnie. i have kevin too, in fact we should have a myspace with a song on it soon. but i can't talk to him - he definitely doesn't want to know anything more than entertaining stories about what i see at the hospital.

i'm so sick of all this mainstream healing crap. i just want to get disability and spend my time volunteering at Lucy parsons Center, maybe even starting a chapter of Icarus Project in boston, doing work study at David Vendetti's studio (i'm almost definitely hired - he gave me the verbal yes but hasn't responded to my email yet). I want to read books about trauma and recovery (including the one by that title) and everything else at the library, and spend time with loved ones and go to trauma-specific support groups. i would still see my therapist and psychiatrist to appease the trauma-specific support groups that i'm not willing to part with because they're totally a security blanket. i just can't take this fake-o, normative suggestion of what "healing" is anymore. it's nauseating.

part of me wants to give up on the idea of disability and model nude for artists. there's also a possibility of under-the-table pet sitting with a friend from the women's partial, although she is really flaky, so who knows.

but for now, i'm committed to waiting for this disability shit to get sorted out, especially since i now have a free lawyer through the boston area rape crisis center who is busting her ass to help me get welfare and disability now.

life is so messed up. i'm going to go make art.