Run Away.

I've been contemplating couch surfing for the rest of the summer.
I've also been thinking about throwing up my hands and packing up the car and moving back to North Bay.
I've also been thinking about digging a hole in the back yard and going ferral.

My mother and my sister have become identical twins. They both have highlighted blond hair that they spend an hour every few nights straightning with an iron. They both shop at the same stores and wear the same style of clothes. They both work at the same place. They talk about the same things, mostly about the Curves girls and about me and my "habbits". Ash is dating a boy exactly like my dad. Dad's been spending every night at the cottage finishing the ceiling, winterizing and whatever; except thursdays when he spends the night with the boys getting drunk and driving around town.

Mom's putting me on a diet again. This time, I'm not allowed pasta. Already, white bread is only allowed in bagle form, because that's all ash will eat. I can eat all the veggies I want, but mom wants me to "significantly reduce" my portion sizes on everything else.

Every conversation we have ends with her saying "you look like you're losing weight, don't you feel thinner?" and me saying "No, mom, I still have 3 pairs of jeans that I can't fit into, and they still don't make bras in my size." Of course, every conversation usually has something to do with my lack of "care" about "the state of my room", how the smell of beans makes Ash "wanting to do the vomit", how Ash doesn't like the smell of the tuna I eat, How Ash isn't really a Swiffer Nazi, she's just very organized.

It's almost 6am. Midnights have thrown my sleeping patterns off enough that I just kinda pass out whenever I need it. I've been up for 3 hours and I'm contemplating drinking myself back to sleep again. I've been good so far, though, not one drink since Aunt Deanna's party.

I feel like Hell.

Dad's convinced that I'll never get a job with the education I'm getting. He doesn't want me to take OSAP because he doesn't want me coming out of school with debt, but at the same time, I know he's asking himself why he's still paying for me to avoid the real world. Mom keeps checking Workopolis and Monster for me, looking for jobs that I can't/don't want to apply for for at least another 2 years, and she sees a lot of "MSW"'s, "BSW"'s, "RN"'s, "RPN"'s and the like, but nothing for a social service worker, addictions and mental health worker, or crisis counciller (without nursing experiance). I don't know what to tell her. I know that a new Youth Addiction Treatment Facility is opening in Kitchener next year, but I don't know that they'll want to hire. I know that I can do some placement with the Children's Aid Society, but I don't think they'll hire me without a BSW, which I can 't get in North Bay. I know that everyone keeps telling me that the call for people with my kind of training will be growing, but I can't get my masters without getting a bachelor's first, and to do that, my best bet is another three years through Athabasca, and I want to get out there and WORK once I have this.

So, yeah. I'm working on going off my meds again. Dr. Meek wants to see what I'm like without them. I figure that by the time August comes, I'll be on Celexa. They say that the frist time you're on antidepressants, you're on them for 6 months, then the next time for a year, then the next time, you're on them for the rest of your life.

I was on Zoloft for 6 months. I've been on Effexor for over a year. Celexa, assuming it works, may be the one that finally convinces them that I'm sick, and I need to be helped, somehow, for the rest of my life. I did the math, and it's actually cheaper for me to be put in an instatution on an out-patient basis than what I"m doing now. Dr. Meeks should be charging $150/hour, but he's not because he's my sister's friend's father, and he knows my insurance only covers $300/year (So, 2 hours. glad someone thought THAT one through...)

I feel like I should be put in a home. I think, sometimes, that that would be best. I feel like I'm a danger to myself, if not others.

But, instead, I'll just go along with the diet. Mom heard from her boss (who is an optomitrist/personal trainer/life coach) that Omega-3's & -6's help aid depression, and there's a posting at Curves that claims that a banana a day cures all. She might be right.

I'm reading "A Million Little Pieces". I know it was discredited as complete fiction, but I still almost completely relate to the main character, even though I'm not an Alcoholic/Addict/Criminal. I know what it's like to feel the Fury he feels where all you want is to murder/kill/destroy. I think the 12 steps is religious nonsense. I know what it's like for people to try to help you without trying to help YOU.

just under 60 days remain.