when life is a numbers game...

:: before :: May 26, 2003 :: after

I just got off the phone with Kristina :) She's at Renfrew, the Florida one. No wonder I couldn't get a hold of her! I had been calling but she was never home. She's been there twelve days so far and really likes it. She says everyone smokes there though, and wants me to send her ciggs. LOL. No one [staff I mean] even cares that all these teenages [under 18] are smoking! I thought that was pretty funny. I'm so glad she's doing well, though [besides smoking, which she really isn't doing much of]. I broke the news about my fucking mom not letting us move this summer. I told her about my alternate plans though. I don't think I've written about any of this. On Friday I had a huge fight with my mom about this. I neglected to add that it was shortly after this that I discharged myself from the hospital... but anyway. What has me the most upset, besides the fact that moving was the only shred of hope I had of ever getting out of this dark hole and this shitty life, is that she has been leading me on, acting as if we were going to move. She's been doing this for years, this wishy-washy "well maybe..." shit, but this time she really acted as if we were going to do it this time. I had my hopes up, and she KNEW that. She knows how much I was looking forward to this, how I can�t stand living her another minute, how I need to get out of this fucking environment where I have no friends and am constantly reminded of how I have failed � how everyone at PHS is going off to their Ivy League colleges and being successful and look at me, I�m no one. I�m a fucking failure and everyone is passing me by, moving on with their lives while I am left in the dust. I have to go to graduation [ok, I don�t HAVE to go, but I guess it is the masochist in me that is going to drag my ass there] and watch them all, and know that I have accomplished nothing. I will probably cry. I will be faced with my former peers, most of which I have not seen since sophmore year, and have to face questions from them, and their parents, like �Where are you going to college?� and �Ruth! Where have you been all this time? What school did you graduate from?� etc etc. Oh fucking JOY. I want to get out of here. I want to be with Kris, and Cameron. I want a new place, a fresh start. I really think I would be 110% better off in Dallas, and my health would be so much better. I know I could do it.

But does my mom care? No, of course not. All she cares about is her fucking self. She doesn�t want the hassle of the moving, having to find a renter for the house [she won�t sell, even though we�d make an insane profit (because real estate here is ridiculously inflated) and be able to pay off all out debts�IDIOT], packing up all our stuff, and finding a new job. Never mind that she would be near her best friend, her aging parents who aren�t going to be around much longer, a place she knows a loves and grew up in, a better-paying job� the list goes on. It turns out she is not losing her job next year like we originally though, but she will have to work part-time again. We are too fucking poor for her to be working part-time! She wanted [NEEDED] to be working full-time next year, but now she can�t because of all the job losses in CA [for teachers]. Again, another reason to move. I HATE HER, I HATE HER, I HATE HER! I just wanted to kill myself when I heard this. I mean really, what�s the point? Another year just like the last. The worst fucking year of my life it�s been, and I get to repeat it again. Don�t bother telling me I can �make it better� because I know it will be just the same if I stay here. Nothing will change except I will have to go to a college around here, which will mean even more stress. I don�t know how the HELL I am going to manage that.

So that was the sorry situation I was faced with Friday. But I am glad to say I am feeling much more optimistic over this situation after talking with my therapist on Monday. Reason being that she proposes I go to Dallas at the end of the summer as planned, without my mom. If I can find a community college in Dallas that has dorms, I will live there, and if not, I�ll find the cheapest, smallest apartment nearby. But, of course, there is a catch. There is always a catch. Besides the obvious parental approval I will need [I need their money of course, therefore they must approve this, because even if I get a job I can�t afford living on my own, not with going to school as well], Deirdre [therapist] says I have to be �healthy� first. Her plan is to have me go to Renfrew or a similar residential, compete the program, or at least most of it, so that I am �healthy enough� to go away at the end of the summer/start of fall. I�m not too happy about this, but I think it�s better than the alternative. My choice is basically: stay here another year, stay completely sick and depressed and most likely not be able to handle a full school year and end up doing like one class and probably barely completely THAT, have no friends [my one friend here who is now home from college will be going back in the fall and I will hardly ever see her], etc, or gain some weight and move to Dallas where I will get to live on my own and have at least a few friends [Cameron, Kris, Taylor (Cam�s sister]] and be close to lots of family friends and relatives. Obviously, option two is better. BUT, if my mom and dad don�t OK this plan [Mom will be enough of a problem, but the hardest by far will be convincing my dad], then I don�t know what I�ll do� I don�t think I can make it through another year, quite honestly. I am too depressed to continue this way for another 12 months. I really can�t take it anymore�

My mom/dad know nothing of this plan yet. I don�t know when I�ll tell my mom, I have to be sure this is what I want first. That I am willing to gain weight, get �better� or at least convince everyone else that I am much healthier in regard to my ED. I know, of course, that I can �go back� but even just gaining 10 pounds scares the shit out of me, and I�d have to gain more than that I think� I�m between 73 and 74 right now, and I don�t think my therapist would give her �OK� [needed for sure to get the parents� ok] if I was 83/84� I need to know what this �magic number� is that I can leave at. 83/84 sounds plenty fat to me. I don�t want to get higher than that!!! It would be so much easier if I could move FIRST, and THEN try to get myself in a better place. It�s very scary to face the prospect of getting fatter and then worrying if it will still all work out � if I will still be allowed to live on my own. And, if I will really be happy like that. What if I�m still the same mess when I gain the weight and move? What if I�m still depressed and unable to cope? Then I�ll just be depressed and FAT�

It�s a lot to think about, obviously.