Rough Afternoon

I got to work today and had a rough go of it. My hands were shaky and I was really edgy. I'm not sure if I can all it manic, but it was close. As soon as the lines calmed, I was still pacing the floors and moving, shaking my hands to rid them of the shakes. I didn't notice at the time, but I see that I have a few nail marks in the back of my hand. Minor dissociation, I suppose, which scares the hell out of me.

I know I should tell Dr. B about that, but I really am afraid of being locked in a psych ward. I can't even have my socks on in bed because I feel like I'm tired up, so really being locked up would not be the best course. She has reassured me time and again that she will not send me into a hospital unless I am very much a danger to myself and she would have no choice then. That always makes me curious, the phrase "danger to myself". I injure myself to take the pain away, or to feel something real, tangible. Doesn't that say I am a danger to myself, or does it mean suicidal? If danger to self equals suicidal then I'll never be in a hospital because I am never suicidal. Even if I was, I'm not sure I'd tell Doc about it. There are still many things that I don't tell her, but I have opened more in these latest sessions then I did at the start.

I feel more free to discuss my self harm. I still think that she is disgusted by certain aspects, though she never says so. She asked me, "What do you think I'm thinking when you mention self harm?"
"I think you're disgusted, most people would be."
She looked sad and said that she was sad that I thought that way. "I'm sorry that you hurt yourself and I wish you wouldn't, but then that's why I'm here. To help you."

God... I feel so ugly and dirty, so horrid. I'm not attractive, not really. I'm chubby and lazy, which means that I never seem to stick to a fitness schedule. I need to eat better, no more junk. I need to start walking again. I'm gaining a few pounds and I hate it. I hate being fat!