One last hope

The other day, I told one of my friends that never really knew about my ED. She pretty much told me that I should go talk to a counselor, here at my school. Because they might be able to listen. I pretty much outright told her: NO! I was scared to let her in, because she's an authoritative figure, she has the power to put me in a treatment facility, tell my family, something that I couldn't let happen.

So I went there yesterday, and basically told her what was going on, like everything, but not as if it was about me. I told her what was going on, but as if it was happening to my friend. And she listened, pretty much told me that I should watch out for her to be suicidal, because that could become a possibility. I am not suicidal, I just feel more resigned. Like I don't want anything to happen anymore. I just want to be okay. And she told me that there were some groups and things I could go to, that would be an option for me to talk to some people who are going through the same things as I am.

I wasn't too sure about that, and I sure as hell didn't want to tell her it was me that was going through all the problems. But when I went back today, something "Clicked" and I wanted to tell her that it was about me, and that I was the one who needed help. So I did. And she just said that she had pretty much guessed, that she wasn't expecting me to tell her, and that all she wanted to do was help me. My big issue was that I didn't want anyone else to know, so she basically said that unless it threatened the lives of me or others, nothing I said would be retold to anyone else. That made a huge difference, and we've decided that I'll go there to talk to her at least once a week, and that if I needed to, I could go there more than that, just to talk.

I'm not sure how I feel about that, because I've pretty much given up on any idea of help. I don't know if she can help me get better, if she can help me get over my ED. Can she? That's why I don't exactly want to go back, but I'll give it a try. I guess something in me isn't ready to give up. Something is continuing to fight. And that's not a bad thing. I just need to take it one day at a time, or one situation at a time. And I can do this. I have a year and a half, and if it's not better, then I'm going to have to accept that I can't do it on my own. That I might actually need help.

And I want to. I am ready. For what, I don't know. I still don't have as much hope, it still feels redundant, I'm still scared to talk to her, to let her in. But I've got the option to pull out and say no if needed. Which is something more than I had before, so it counts. All my friends here can fuck off, as far as supporting me in my recovery, because I no longer want them to help. They have proven that they don't give a fuck.

And then last night, it took A LOT of courage.... but I told Cimiron everything. Everything that's happened in the last few days. I told him about the role my friends played, the thoughts that went through my head, and pretty much everything I could think of, despite my embarrassment, and my shame. He just listened, and didn't judge. He didn't say anything either. He didn't try to tell me that it would be okay, that I could do this. he didn't say I had to do it on my own, or anything of the sort. And that was great, I think.

I had a meeting for Outdoor Lab today, got to meet the kids. And I have to say, that helped a lot with my anxiety over going. It still feels like a lot of responsibility, maybe more than I can handle. But for the first time since I signed up, I feel like I can do it. Like it's not impossible. And I have to admit, I might just be the least bit excited. Just a little. We have another meeting tomorrow about it, and then I leave on Monday, and I get back on Friday in the afternoon. It's going to be good, I think. Guess I'll find out. And I do really think that this will do me good, even if it's just giving me time to focus on other kids, not myself.

Now it's just time to catch up on a shit ton of homework, that I've been neglecting for the last 2 weeks. Plus, when I get back, I'm going to have a lot of make up work to do, but I know I can do it. I look forward to it. I can't wait to write all about it when I get back, if anyone's interested. Or maybe I'll just write about it because I want to. That's what I always do, isn't it? Things are starting to feel the slightest bit better again, even if it IS only temporary. It's better than nothing.

So that's what I'm going to hold onto. And head into tomorrow. (: I was given this life and these troubles because I AM strong enough to live it. Just gotta remember that. One day a time. I can do it. I will. I am me.