shit is wack.

i'm in college now, bet i didn't expect that way back when. bet i didn't expect to make it past fifteen back then. haha. things are different now. fundamentally i'm the same person. still as stubborn as always, still cautious, kind where i can be. i have grown as a person, too, naturally. i care more about my family despite what they've done to me. i've sort of come to forgive my father. i've learned to cut ties permanently when i need to. i've come to understand that what others perceive as weakness in me is what my strength comes from. i can stand up no just for friends, but for myself too. not often, certainly, but.. where it counts.

brooke has become not just my ally but also my enemy over the course of 2019. it's not just sibling rivalry anymore, just.. a lack of respect. i'm not sure where that came from.

mom has been fine, albeit sappy and weepy about my departure from home. she's constantly worried, but i try to send her a text or two at least every couple days, keep her updated, and maybe facetime. i can tell she appreciates it. she keeps saying i look thinner despite the only change to my daily life being- you guessed it- exercise. funny thing is, it's not even that much. just, like, having to walk up flights of stairs to the dorm every day, walking extended distances in boston and taking the train, etc. i'm running out of money fast, so i'm sure that's also going to change my status in regards to weight, haha. bad jokes aside, i am legitimately worried about that.

either way, i'm writing now because i looked in the mirror and happened to see how numb i looked/was. i might be doing better in life overall but boy howdy my depression surely has not gone away. i expressed that to jane a week before college started- not a smart move on my end. she immediately recommended antidepressants and therapy, with the first move of course being the latter. i haven't had a chance to explore either of these options, though i did meet with janet, the school counselor. heh. her name is just "jane" with a "t" at the end. what a wacky world.

mom sort of knows about my struggle, based on what little information i gave her when she came to visit. dad knows because i blew up on him in the living room months ago because i refused to visit his relatives for whatever occasion they were celebrating. so he knows, more or less, that yes i do need therapy, desperately in fact, but not because of whatever fucked up notions i may have about his family. my opinions of them are based in fact, not a deranged byproduct of my fucked mind. if you ever see this, dad? fuck you. fuck you, honestly genuinely and truly, for what you tried to force upon me. don't you dare do the same to my sister. she will push you away as i have, and you will regret it. i have forgiven you for many things, but this is not one i will move past considering it's an ongoing issue. do not force my sister and i to visit your emotionally unhealthy, judgmental, shallow family ever again.

tangent aside, shit sucks emotionally at the moment. between the fight with alex, my father, my finances, and of course, the pressures of college work, i've been incredibly anxious and depressed the past weeks. i'd never consider killing myself, not after fighting so long, as that'd be a waste. all the money spent on me, all of the people who's lives that would impact negatively, i could never do it. never. i couldn't breathe thinking about how my mother would cry over the child she struggled so hard to have. my sister, growing up without her older sister who'd shown her love when her parents hadn't.

i couldn't do it.

but i sure as fuck would appreciate it right about now.

edit: changed a deadname, 9/29/2021