i can't do this.

I know that it's possible, apparently, to recover.
I just don't think I'm strong enough. I don't feel like I can get through this.
Pending insurance, I'm leaving for Arizona on Monday.

I love Thanksgiving. Well, I hate Thanksgiving. I love my Grandmother's house, and I love Texas. I love shopping for 12 hours straight on Black Friday...requiring multiple trips to the car because we buy so much shit we can't even hold it. My extended family is pretty fucking insane, but it's always entertaining.

I'll be in treatment.

I love Christmas. Yeah, I'm not going to lie, I still can't sleep on Christmas morning and make everyone wake up at 5:00 a.m. to open presents...yeah, I never grew out of that one. But it's not the presents that makes it Christmas. It's my dad glaring at me and Kelly and Michelle while we disrupt Christmas Eve mass, it's the crazy Christmas Eve traditions we have...watching Anchorman, the non-traditional meal we have: lasagna..because it was Mr. Bill's favorite. It's the matching pajamas Miss. Joan gets us and all of us cramming in the trunk of my dad's car to drive creepily through neighborhoods, looking at lights even though none of us have given a shit about it for 5 years, at least. It's the home movies we watch over hot chocolate, even though it's not even cold in Georgia yet.

I'll be in treatment.

There will be more Thanksgivings, there will be more Christmases...but that I'm missing THIS year seems unbearably difficult. I'm missing reuniting with the few people I like from high school, the ceremony where we receive our IB diplomas, and standing in endless mall lines doing last minute shopping with my mom.

I haven't seen my mom since October. We fight a lot and I bitch about her more than I bitch about anyone, but she's honestly my best friend. And I know they'll visit at least once while I'm in treatment, but...damn. I don't want to go by myself. I don't want to be an adult and do this.

I'm so damn tired of dealing with this.
I hate that I have been sitting here trying to convince myself to eat something for going on 3 hours.
I'm so fucking anxious I can't function.
I have a French test tomorrow......nothing is sticking.

Part of me is relieved to finally go somewhere that could help me be free of this.
Part of me is happy that I'll be away from the holidays and my family...it may be my favorite thing ever, but it does really trigger me. Now that I think about it, I went to ACE right after the holidays...
And yet another part of me is excited to be around people that actually get it.

I know that I need this. But I'm just scared. I'm scared to tell my friends I'm leaving. (Read: I'm scared to tell Trevor.) But I'm more afraid of telling the people I am not as close with that I'm leaving. Or...not of telling them...but of them noticing. The people in my classes, the people that always end up being at the same parties as me...and my extended family that has no idea about this. They think I'm smart and strong...so what will they think when they find out about this.

I've said it a million times before, but I'm just so fucking terrified of letting go of this and it doesn't make sense.

I hate changing my mind from being ready to fight it and get better to wanting nothing more but to go back in time and not tell anyone I started struggling.

Maybe insurance will fuck up and I won't go.
I can't decide what emotion that would make me feel.

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
If only I wasn't in the library right now.



Bright side = I'm not missing Harry Potter