When I went to my professor after class today, I was going to ask for advice. Out of the five classes I’m taking this semester, I’m only passing one. I knew I made some mistakes or I wouldn’t have been asking for help. Well, instead of getting advice, I got lectured. It wasn’t a nasty lecture, but it was one of those that comes from a really sweet teacher, but has a stern voice, so you know she’s upset with you. And it was along the lines of being told that I’m blaming my son and everyone else for my problems. And to add insult to injury, after she walked me out of class and turned to head to her office, she smiled at me.
I stood there in the hallway for several moments. I didn’t want to go home, or face the friend who was waiting downstairs on me. I’ve painted this picture out for everyone else that I’m okay, so it’s like nothing can go wrong. If it does, then their “progress” with me just goes back to square one and they all get worried and dragged down again with my problems. I can’t do that to them. Not now that I’ve made them think they did such a good job and finally got me on the right track. But I headed downstairs anyway, and I was able to keep from crying. The walk home with my friend was miserable, and I was just wishing she’d turn to go to her dorm so I could be left alone. Naturally, she didn’t, and she headed to my place with me. She and her sister, who had been watching my son, stuck around for an hour just talking and telling me stories they’d told me a million times before. I was relieved when they finally left.
My current situation stands that I own $7,000 in student loans. My GPA is so low, I’m going to lose all of my financial aid as soon as my grade reaches the right people to take it away from me. I’ve already taken out as many loans as I can, so if they take my grants, I have to drop out of school this month. If I do, I’ll have to try and find a job back home in a town where no one can find a job. If I tried to get a job in another town, I wouldn’t have a car to get to that job. I’m a single mom, and whoever I got to watch my son would have to be paid. So by the time I paid the sitter, I wouldn’t have money left over for food, a car, or an apartment, much less for the payments on my student loans. And the reason I came to a university in the first place is because I didn’t want my son to have to grow up in the same environment I did. I was subjected to a lot of bad things growing up, and I wanted something different for him. Now, my stupidity cost us everything and I don’t have anywhere to turn.
I just don’t know what I’m trying to do with my life. It’s been months since I cut, or even considered suicide. Now, I don’t know how to go back to the calm I finally found after eighteen years of growing up in that hell hole. I thought when I moved here, I would be so happy. I was going to be on the way to starting the rest of my life with my son, and now I don’t know how to fix the mess I’ve made. I’ll never be able to pay off my debts, to the bank or to society for having to put up with me. My best friend, the only person I trust, is out drinking with her friends for someone’s birthday who she feels closer to than me.
Actually, speaking of which… a week prior to my birthday in October, she told me that there was no point in her trying to find a boyfriend because she couldn’t feel more emotionally connected with anyone than me. I felt the same towards her for a long time, and I was over the moon to hear her say it. Then on the morning of my birthday, she called me to tell me she had sex with a guy she had liked for the past three years. There’s someone I’ve fallen in love with, and I told him things that I’d never tell anyone else. When I told her that he and I had shared intimacy with words and that it hurt just as badly as her having sex with someone she loved, she just got really nervous and said, “Do you know how nervous I am that you said his name just now?” I hung up on her, and I’m still upset over it. And this guy doesn’t know I love him at all. I’m too afraid to even speak to him in class anymore, so I could never tell him anything else. I’m afraid he thinks I hate him.
On top of my other problems, I think I might have an eating disorder. I’m far too fat to be anorexic, but I can’t stand food being in my stomach. I live to lose that next pound and the scale dictates my day. I have rituals, like I have to burn off twice as many calories as I eat or I don’t eat at all that day. My strength is zapped, and I had an episode after I last purged that caused me to have a severe headache and chest pain. I thought I was going to have a panic attack and die.
But speaking of dying, I’m wondering if that wouldn’t be the better option. I just want to forget everything and let others live. They’re better off without me anyway, and my son definitely doesn’t need me. He seems to be fine with the grandparents who take him off for two weeks at a time and spoil him rotten. I stay weekends with them so I can see him, but it’s funny that when they come up here, they can’t stick around for two minutes to visit. They just want to go home. They don’t miss me at all and they don’t care. No one does.
You know what’s ironic? I’ve been talking to a guy who wanted to die on yahoo answers, trying to figure out what to tell him that would make him change his mind. Now I’m wondering what to say to myself to save my own life.