2004-03-17, 7:03 p.m.
I never wanted it to come to this, but I got to lock my diary. Too many things have come out of having an open diary. If you want the password, leave me a note, guestbook entry, or email me. I'll give it a couple more days before I lock it.
Someone I know from online(I know who, but I won't disclose) read my last entry and got overly concerned, and called the police. She had my address, so they came to my house.
Ironically enough, I was purging in the bathroom when my dad knocked on the door saying the police wanted to talk to me.
They told me someone called them and they had a print out of my diary saying I had an eating disorder and I wanted to starve myself to death. If this was true, they just wanted to get me help. Nothing was worth dying over at 17, and time heals all wounds. Blah, blah. I denied it all, basically saying I write it all and it was a fictional story. The officer was real nice though. He said he had 5 kids, one 17 year old girl. He looked at me and said "Well, it could be true. Just by looking at you, how much do you weigh, 85, 90?" I was offended. About 5 lbs less, buddy.
After that whole ordeal my dad asked me if it was true what the officer said. I denied it again. He said he was concerned. I asked him why. He said he was concerned about me, about my therapy, my meds. I said he didn't need to be. He said if I needed to talk about anything, let him know. That was that.
However, the next day we had a good chat about depression and him being concerned. It's funny, he wasn't even fazed about the whole eating disorder part of it all. I guess he was just concerned about how depressed I was lately and how I said I was going to kill myself. My dad has told me he use to be depressed so he talked about that a lot and how he can sympathize and he knows it's chemical. Blah, blah. we talked a lot though, and basically he's just really concerned. He wants me to take vitamins and start eating right. He's big on that.
Today I saw Julio. I guess my mom called and told Julio about the police so I didn't need to tell him about that. I told him in detail, though. I talked about how depressed I've been lately. I said stuff like how "everything" is terrible and how i am a fuck up. He hates when I talk in black and white, so he kept calling me on that. I got super frustrated. I was crying and eventually yelled "SHUT UP ABOUT BLACK AND WHITE." Because he just kept calling me on talking in black and white and wasn't listening to about how painful everything is. We were trying to talk about how why i was frustrated about him analyzing my black and white but finally I was just like "this is stupid. just drop it." he was like "why? no. we need to talk it out." and i said "because were just analyzing why and were not getting anywhere." "okay." he said. that just made me madder because he was thinking something and not telling me. "you're pissed at me." i said. "not pissed. annoyed." then i got really, really, upset for some reason. "why?" i asked. He told me why, which I can't remember exactly. I started sobbing because I didn't want him to be annoyed with me, because I didn't want to mess up our relationship, because I wanted him to like me. He told me to talk to him, tell him what's upsetting me. I told him "i'm messing up." he said
"no, about us."
"i don't want you to be annoyed with me."
"i'm over it." he said, sounding annnoyed.
"hah. it doesn't sound like it."
"i can't do anything right."
"try to anyways."
"no, i mean in general. i'm afraid to open my mouth because i'll phrase somethin wrong and then you'll get annoyed or correct me."
"so what. we'll get through it. life goes on."
"i don't like people annoyed with me."
We talked about going to groups and stuff. He said you eventually get to a point where you surrender yourself completely and go work the program. I said I can't even make myself wake up and go to school. I can't do it. He kept giving me that answer, I got pissed. I said what if I never get there, what if I stay in the first step, miserable. In my addiction. What if I drive myself off a cliff. What if lay in bed all day.
"Then you die, then we hospitalize you.
Great answer" I say back.
"What do you want me to say?" He retorts. "I don't have any other answers."
"I just want some direction!" I say.
"Go to a group, go to a meeting. Work the program. Fake it till you make it."
"Okay? You'll do it?"
"I don't know. I don't know know what to say. You have no answers and I can't do what you say."
Then we eventually got off topic because I realized I put a soggy tissue in his tissue box that wasn't empty. I laughed and said, whoops, it wasn't empty yet. I tried to pull the remaining tissues out to empty it but they were already connected and I ended up pulling a train of, like, 6 out. We laughed.
We talked everything out. We were okay at the end. We talked about how it's okay to get mad at eachother, how it will happen. How he gets mad at people he likes and loves. How I shouldn't be afraid. We ended up chatting 20 past 6(when i was suppose to end).
The warm feeling I use to get in his office came back.