So before I left the hospital my psychiatrist told Andrea to "proof" the house from me. I figured she would take away the scissors I use to cut, but hope that she wouldnt - she did. I know why she did - it makes sense.
I went to go make the kids lunch today and there were no knives. I'm actually not allowed access to utensils to cook my own kids food. I am not mad at her. At all. I know why she did and it. And its smart that she did - becuase I have used each of those knives to cut, and have determined that none of them are sharp enough to slit my wrists - but it still sucks to know that I am not mentally stable enough to even be allowed access to common items needed to prepare my own children food.
Whats worse is Craig knew about it too. In fact they had this whole exchange; the awkward silence of they both knew where they were, and knew that I hadn't yet realized they were missing because of me. I feel both embarrassed for not knowing they were taken away for my sake, and ashamed because they have to be taken away for my sake.
What has my life become? So many things have been taken away from me. I have very little left to lose.
The double dose of seroquel didn't make me drowsy. I felt a little heavy headed - but nothing like I was expecting. I go up to 150mg tonight. Im not worried - I'm just done.