And now drunk ass is trying to talk to me like he’s the best friend in the entire world. Like, no, fucker. I don’t like anything about you. Take your shitty apology and shove it up your ass. I don’t want to hear it, because I know it’s insincere. I know that know matter what you’re going to do this shit allllllll over again. No matter what happens.
I question who my friends are everyday….that’s a sad way to live huh?
I left my journal at school. I’m sorry that because of that, I’m about to take this all out on tumblr. I don’t know what else to do. I need an outlet.
I’m terrified. I don’t have my medicine anymore and I’m terrified I’m reverting back. I’m afraid I’m slipping right back down that slope. Logically I know I can never fall that far down again, but God, I’m petrified I’m going to get really damn close. I feel like I’m stuck again. I feel like I’m lost again.
I feel like I have nothing going for me. I have two papers due next week for a total of 17 pages, I have four exams in five days the week after that, and then my brother graduates the week after that. I won’t have him at college with my any more and I’m so scared and upset about that because he helped me more than anyone can even begin to imagine this year. He literally watched over me and I can’t express my gratitude towards him. There aren’t words or actions that can show him my thanks or just how much it meant to have him by my side.
I come home, and I haven’t been home in over a month, only to be called fat, and lazy, and stupid. What am I coming home for? I know it’s a holiday, and I know this holiday means a lot to me as a Christian, but I would give anything to be in my dorm room blasting music as I write my paper, or running on campus, or swimming. I just need to not be here. It’s toxic for me to be home.
I managed really well with my medicine and with weekly therapy, but I had my last therapy session last week and I ran out of medicine the week before and now I am beginning to feel the effects. No one knows I’m like this other than my brother and my friends. No one in my family knows how broken I am and I am NOT sharing that with them. I don’t know what to do. George called me fat, and I’ve been working SO HARD not to be fat. After two different eating disorders on two separate occasions I cannot give in to believing what he said was true. After working SO HARD just to get down to the weight I am now - in a healthy manor - I cannot risk thinking that all of that work was for nothing.
I just want to be home, and for me, home is Carolina, my dorm room, the Dean Dome watching my team - that team that made me decide not to transfer schools, the Union, SASB, the study rooms in Cobb, Franklin Street, the Genome Science Building and Chapman building lecture halls, Boshamer Stadium watching the baseball team on any day of the week….
Home is not here. I am not home when I come back to my house that I’ve lived in for seven years. Home is not with the family that I have by blood and marriage. Home is not where I feel this down and degraded. I want to go home to Carolina. I want to be back where I’m happy, and cared about, and loved, and where I can laugh and where I can run and smile without having to think about how someone I have no choice but to have in my house, is going to judge me, insult me, make me feel this low.
God, have mercy. My first week without the effects of my medicine and you give me this? Is it some sort of test? Is it some sort of joke? Is it some sick way of pushing me and breaking me down to somehow show me I’m in some minuscule way, stronger? Because I’m done. I’m never coming back once I’m gone. Next year I won’t go home at all. Watch me. I need to be happy, I need to be strong, and I need to be where I can thrive and grow and not backtrack. This is not that place. I’m so done and over my house and my family. I just need my brother, my mom - for the most part, and my school.
"I’m going to Carolina in my mind." I hope that helps.
group hug for the fandom pass it on
the show is about fairytales they said
it’ll be fun they said