I'm Going to Wendy's For A Burger.

So I went to the mental health clinic and I must have looked crazy as fuck. They said they couldn't see me because I'd been there before and their policy is that if it's been more than a year that you've seen someone there, you can't see a doctor at the clinic.... you have to go to emergency. Fuck that! Fukketty fuck-fuck!!!!! Between that, and the kid's father taking my boys to my parent's house for a sleepover this weekend, and feeling as though no one remembers how he fucking used to rough me up and cheat on me, and the rent mot being paid by the people who are supposed to be paying directly to the property management, and the foofarah with J & D....I'm a wreck. Fuck. I was hoping to be able to deal with the head-case shit I have going on today. It's already past lunchtime and I feel as though I've got nothing accomplished. I came all this way....I need to deal with this stuff pronto. I'd say "go home and deal with it another day", but *when*? When will I finally be ok? I'm not going to emergency; fuck that. They'll probably strap me down and force feed me pills. That doesn't solve anything. I need to fix my problems, not numb myself to them.