I am in such a weird place right now. I always am when I have to come to this class. It reminds me of the shit times when I was sick. I come to this class where I don't know anyone. Everyone talks and laughs while I sit in the corner of the back row by myself. I don't like the teacher because he embarassed me by saying I was sleeping during class (which I wasn't) and everyone laughed. On top of that, I stopped coming to this class because it is boring and makes me anxious and depressed and lonely. Now, when I actually do come, I am overcome with nervousness and stress because I have no idea what is going on and I am afraid I am going to fail. I'm having flashbacks to my sick times at college up north. I started skipping classes when I had mono. Skipping was easier than going and realizing that I was too lost to get help and that I had no friends to help me anyways. Skipping was easier than going to class by myself and trying not to cry. Skipping was easier than facing real life. So that's what I did until I was failing. I really only missed a few classes, but a few classes of Cell and Molecular Biology or Organic Chemistry or Calculus 2 is all it takes to start failing. And that's how I got into that suicide pattern.
That's not entirely accurate. My memory of the "sick" years is all muddled. I guess when your brain is so devoted to just trying to function, it doesn't have much energy left to create and keep memories. It's kind of ironic that the class I'm in right now that's giving me so many problems is actually on memory.
Jesus. I guess the semester I had mono, I got passing withdraws because of the mono. Then, it was the next semester that I overdosed. I couldn't figure out how I would get through without failing. Unfortunately, my only solution was death. I couldn't see how I would make it through the end of the semester. I couldn't face the thought of failing. On top of that, I couldn't face the fact that my old roommate (who was abroad) would be back in January. My new roommate (and best friend ever) had taken her place. Everyone told me the old one was bad for me and I should stop talking to her, so I did. Except that I didn't tell her why. She emailed me and called me from fucking Spain, and I just ignored it. I can't imagine how I would feel if my best friend just started ignoring me from half way around the world. There wasn't even anything she could do about it because she was so far away. She even still sent me a present from abroad. She was bad for me, though. She was incredibly strong and controlling, and, especially when I was sick, I became her little pet. I asked her for permission to hang out with others, I couldn't eat without her or go out without her or even be in any activities without her. She would sulk and tell me how terrible everyone else was if I tried to do anything without her. I don't know if it was just because I was so weak or if she would be that way with anyone. I don't know if I would have gotten so sick if I hadn't been randomly selected as her roommate. I guess there's always what ifs though. There were about a thousand things that contributed to it. I'm just glad I made it through.
I feel like my insides are oozing out. Maybe I'll feel better when I'm back in my safety zone with Andrew. Or, maybe I'll be writing in an hour about how ookie I still feel. I guess we'll wait and see.
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