I was doing well. And then my mother came home. And we talked. I didn't want to, but we talked. Nothing mean, nothing unusual. But suddenly I felt like shit. I wanted to go hide in the bathroom. And I did. No tears, just sat with clenched fists, staring at the floor. We had been talking about the apartment, how she's fine with the way I keep it less than clean. When I finally came out of the bathroom, I cleaned up almost everything. I left a few medicine bottles on a bedside table and the sheets on the couch where I'm sleeping. I really ought to fold that up, but I know I'll only end up sleeping without sheets because I'll be too lazy to set it up again.

I was just about to go spend the night with friends. But now I just want to curl up and forget about all of it. She got upset. I tried to convince her it wasn't her fault because I honestly couldn't put my finger on anything that she said that annoyed me. But then she did point out that I was in a good mood, then she showed up, then I was in a rotten mood. And this isn't the first time that's happened, although she doesn't know that as well as I do. Mostly because the good moods happen when she isn't here.

So what the hell do I do now? Admit that she makes me unhappy? I think that's maybe what I'm going to do. Have a short talk and then bail. Be selfish for once. Have a good night, finally. Get a little intoxicated, see some good friends. Don't think about my problems, don't talk about gender or depression or sex or anything else. Just pretend I'm a straight, gender-conforming, sane, social person. Make it to my shrink appointment, go to a play, come back here about a day later.

Okay , ready *jaw clench*, set *deep breath*....go.