Despite how badly I feel, I have to write to keep a written record of the abuse I feel. I am desperately waiting to hear from a neurologist for an appt, but in the meantime I find myself become sicker and sicker, and more and more autistic. I cannot bear any kind of stimuli. The only good thing in my life right now is that I am unemployed, so at least I can find a place to just curl up away from all the noise and groan where no one can here me.
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