"For somebody who is complex, she's actually really likeable."
Let that one sink in a bit. Seems complimentary, but, well, really? The assumption that as I "complex" person I don't get the benefit of the doubt afforded to everybody, makes the compliment into an insult. Also, I kind of- sappy as this may sound- feel insulted for everybody else who is classed as complex. It's a majorly shitty thing to have on your notes anyway, because complex really means nothing in real life, but in the mental health system it's a code for them not having a clue what to do with you, and so everyone just passes you on. I am, once again, the ginger stepchild. I'm trying to not really draw many conclusions from the original statement, back-handed as it was, but I'm constantly chewing it over in my head.
In other news, there really is no other news. I'm taking it hour by hour, smoke break by smoke break (still not over scheduled fag times. Amazing they don't have organised toilet breaks, to be crude). It's a dull way to live, but I've got to do what I've got to do to get through, and that's about it. Oh, and I have the giant stress of them deciding I'm moving hospitals, but nobody knows where. Life is bloody stressful. I reeeally can't be arsed going into it now, but expect a rant in the next few days about it. Urgh.