Searching for my Happily Ever After.

Mum's a lot more stable since my last entry. I've been making an extra effort to be nice to her..

Well various things to write.
Corpse Bride
Charles Victor Kinsey
Mr. Tim the councillor man
Tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow morning; oh dear lord I am so terribly nervous. I'm not sure what to tell him. And I'll just end up looking a fool and he'll send me away saying that nothing's wrong. Because I'm not sure what to tell him, I wrote a note, like I did for Tim. I'm bringing that book of mine as well, just in case.

But it's a lose-lose situation. If he says that there's nothing wrong, then I'm still left in the dark as to why I do those things. If he says it is what I think it is, then, well, it's also a bad thing. Because it'll have a Name to it. I'll have a Disorder. So a nerve-wracking lose-lose situation fraught with chewing up my fingers and eating polo after polo, interspersed with various forms of stuttering will commence for me tomorrow. I'd better et some rest for it.

Dear God give me courage and calmness and all that jazz.

*deep fortifying sigh*

Wish me luck.