Summer

I’m sad about leaving here. It’s one of the places I’ve lived the longest. I haven’t had consistency in my life for so many years. I had it here. I’m sad it won’t be that for me anymore. 

But I also hate it here. There have been terrible moments here. 

So, there’s just no option without pain. So I’ll let myself fucking create it.

I’m decreeing this the “summer of survival.” 

This means all behavioral rules are null and void. Toxic and self destructive are just allowed to exist. Just for the summer. Food, Xanax, whatever. I’m staying loyal, and I’ll go to therapy, because those are the things that make it seem like I’m ok to anyone who knows me, but I’m not really going to try.

No one can help me. 

They either push me to do something else, or they just have no answers. Literally no one has given me any help. So, fuck it. I’ll waste two months bitching about my life to whoever is too stupid to keep me but interesting enough to keep me interested. Maybe I’ll do that cycle twice. And I’ll let Mia and Ana play whenever and wherever they want. I’ll skip breakfast. I’ll chug caffeine. I’ll take laxatives when I eat. I’ll let Ana rule the grocery store. I don’t fucking care anymore. 

It doesn’t matter how hard you try. Nothing ever gets better. So, why try?? 

He’ll get to work soon enough, and then I’ll focus. I’ll buy clothes and get physically active. But the next few months, I’m going to tear myself apart. 

I’m going to fake it till I make it with the rich girl food rules. Fuck the fucking fat bitch family I come from. 

Fuck her for letting me get this way. I wonder if my doctor will give me adderall… or if a psych would. 

Hm.