It can only get better

Like the song by Amy Diamond, called It Can Only Get Better, it gets better. I've started studying at John Bauer now and it's great. Also I took my own steps and got help for my angst and deep depression. Oh and I got drunk last thursday, the fifteenth october. I became very sencitive and said a lot of wierd things. I drank four smaller glasses of whisky. But I don't know how to drink. I said, for example, that I loved the whole world, my sisters and other siblings and one of my sister's boyfriend. I said "I want Melody! She is my only friend!" and melody is a fairy doll. And I needed someone to carry me up the stairs and it was my sister's boyfriend who did it. And because of the alcohol I was freezing worse than ever. "Please can't we go home," I said. "I promise I'll stay in bed if we do." Oh and my sister tried to make me vomit on my own. But that usual trick with tickling that thing somewhere just didn't work that time when I needed to get the alcohol out. And I felt so lonely, much more than I always do, and that is a whole lot to begin with usually. I got hystericly sad and wanted to give my big, realistic doll to my sister for her to take care of him because I was a bad mother. Oh dear, I'll never be allowed to forget this. Somewhere in mars I got drunk too, but this time from wine. That time I just couldn't walk right and I had a gash in my eyebrow after it and a huge hangover. But this recent hangover was much worse. But I had said I would go to school, so I had no choice. I went home early that day, however, because the headache became unbearable. This is embarrasing. I am taking antidepressents now and the fear has decreased dramatically. I now don't have to pace and my hand-washing rituals are much less important. I'm still sick of bathrooms and things others have been drinking or eating from still, though. I remember something that was troubling me a lot. I have honestly never seen a urinal before. I entered what I and my sister, who is my assistant, had assumed was a bathroom and I checked. I didn't find a toilet. I touched the thing. My sister said it was recently cleaned, but I was all obsessed with it in my mind, so the rest of my first day was officially ruined. I think I've got a problem similar to obsessive compulsive disorder, OCD. Anything can be troubling me for long periods, but that's a bit complicated. What's really hurting me is that my father thinks I just believe it's a problem, that I have been reading about it and taken it to me, that I'm imagening. He says it haven't been a problem since I studied at Solvik, but I never did read about OCD there. I read about tourettes there, but I just don't think it is tourettes. He keeps telling me that it haven't been a real problem. But it has been a problem all along. I kept thinking that it would get over, but it didn't get over. I didn't dare to say anything about it. I was afraid that they should get angry. I was mistreated by my current assistant at school and my father forced me to school and believed the things they said at school. So I was afraid of turning to my parents and I have been untill now. Honestly I start to think I shouldn't have bothered, because it hurt me more than it helped me. But he never understood that yelling at me to stop wouldn't help. Maybe it would help in the way that I would leave and get stuck on the same or another ritual. I still feel unhappy. It can take a lot of time to get the actual depression to disappear. Anyway it doesn't matter too much that it takes a long time, because as long as it really works it's fin. I'm already feeling way better now when the intensive fear is gone. I can feel safe and comfortable. I'd better go to bed now... or maybe I should just keep surfing! Cheers!