I'm never not anxious, and I hate it. Why can't I just calm down for a little bit? Nothing's going to happen. I mean, come on gurl, get it together. Although actually, maybe now I can get it together, because I just started Lexapro, and I'm looking forward to see what will happen and if it will help me. It shouldn't be such a rad experience for me, but I'm super excited anyway. But you know what I'm not excited about? My therapy hospital treatment program tomorrow! (Is a therapy hospital a thing? It sounds much better than calling it a mental hospital, I think) Wow, I really hate it already. Everyone is creepily peppy, and it has all the trappings of a cult, complete with special jargon, special food, a no-cell phone policy, and a dress code. Like, what are they trying to pull here? Maybe it's all motivation for us to get better and leave quickly. If it's not that, then I just don't know what to say, because it's all pretty terrible. They make us eat so much, and all in a group too, and then we have to sit around in said group and talk about our feelings, I mean, come on is there anything conceivably less conducive to my comfort? I don't deny that I probably do need help, since if what they say is true, my heart is on its way out because of bad nutrition, but I really don't think this is the right way to go about it. That begs the question of what is the right way, and to tell you the truth I'm not sure, but I can say with all the certainty I possess that this isn't it. I'm pretty sure it's just going to make things worse, and I feel so guilty, because I know my family did expend some effort in getting me here, but I did warn them that I didn't think this was for me, and they didn't listen, so maybe it's not entirely my fault. Still, I do feel pretty bad, because I feel like I'm faking my problems or something, and I don't deserve this, and I don't even want it, so I really don't deserve it, and man, I dunno, I have very mixed feelings about it all. All I know is that I dread every day like 90% more now, and I didn't even know that was possible, so I guess that's sort of amazing in a way, but I wish some of the amazement in my life would be of the good kind for once. It's so hard to make myself go through all this; I don't really even care about my health anymore, I just want to stop putting in so much effort for so little result. I feel a bit like Sisyphus from the old Greek myth, actually, just pushing through one horrible day only to start all over again the next. All I ever looked forward to through this whole horrible excuse for a summer was staying up late and watching Netflix until I stopped feeling so desperately bad and my mind could finally turn off, but I can't even do that anymore, and when even that's gone, what am I even here for? There's no relief from any of this, and I really hate it. If I weren't in this program, things might not be any better, but I would think they were, and that would count for a lot. I'm not sure what's more important here, my mental health or my physical health (if the program is indeed helping my physical health, which I doubt). But I am sure that I want to find some other way to fix things. In this case, I think the costs far outweigh the benefits.

A teatime chat with me

I'm drinking passion flower tea because it's supposed to have soporific qualities, but it's rather bitter. Maybe I let it steep too long? I wonder if it would be improved in any way if I put in a shot of brandy. It couldn't hurt, right? I'm going to try it.
It helped quite a bit, actually. Now it tastes like alcohol instead of medicine, and that's something I can go for. Plus, if I mix two sedatives, the effect should be twice as strong, right? I'm going to be knocked out like a light tonight (for once).
X just got back from his music camp, and it's lovely to see him and all, but he's developed quite the abrasive personality recently, probably because he thinks he needs it to fit in in New York, and when he's not being rude, he's bragging about his powerful charm and irresistible-ness to women (which is something of which he really shouldn't brag but anyway). And that's great, but it got old the first day he did it, and now I'm totally sick of it. Really, you're not supposed to tell your sister all the salacious details of your romantic encounters, for goodness' sake. Believe me, she doesn't want to know. Although it's true, I might be a little bit of a prude, because everyone else I know is more comfortable with a lot of these personal things than I am. To me, private stuff is private for a reason, and I get twitchy when anything too overt gets discussed too overtly. When it pertains to me, I try to be honest and everything, but still, ew. Anyway, at the moment, I feel like the unwanted member of the family even more than usual. All of us kids used to get along in a little club, and I guess we still do to some extent, but now I'm more or less the odd one out all the time, and I'm not sure if it's because something in the family dynamic has changed or because I'm isolating myself more or maybe both, but it's rather unpleasant. If you can't turn to your family, where are you supposed to go?
Today, my boo and I discussed breaking up, and it was terrible. Now I'm not sure what's going on. He's afraid that since I'm going to LA and he's staying here for another year that we won't get to visit enough and I'll lose interest in him, which obviously isn't happening, because if anyone's queen of difficult long-distance relationships, it's me, but I'm not sure how to reassure him of that. At any rate, we put off the discussion until we can talk in person on Thursday (since he started school already and his parents won't let him drive anywhere until class is done for the week, which is eminently sensible and laudable), and now he's acting like nothing's wrong, and I'm not sure what to do. Well, actually, he stopped texting me awhile back, and now I'm freaking out, but then again, that's so mething that he does (which isn't great for me, but I'm trying to be chill), so again, I don't know. What am I supposed to do here? I'm not that emotionally invested that breaking up would kill me, but I don't really want to, especially since it seems fairly unnecessary, but who knows. I'll just stop thinking about him and watch Star Trek or something.
Why is it so hot in here? This is insupportable. I need some ice powers here or something.
Speaking of which, I always get either ice/weather powers or super-intelligence whenever I take superhero tests, which leads me to believe that I would be a superb incarnation of the coolest superhero ever (pun intended) should exposure to gamma radiation ever come to pass. At this point, I'm not sure what my code name would be, but rest assured it would be extremely rad and memorable, yet classy and clever, and I would become a household word (in a good way).
Man, I love superhero stuff.
Tomorrow, I have to work, and I really don't want to. I know it's great that I'm building up my resume, and getting a fraction of minimum wage and everything, but I'm really sick of going to the conservatory. It's bad enough teaching my own students at my house, but this? This is a little excessive, I think! But it's probably good for me, since when I don't have to go out, I stagnate like a pile of tearful lawnmower clippings and lie around on the couch all day watching Netflix, and that doesn't exactly go far in making me into a useful member of society. Ugh. It's all so unpleasant though. How am I ever going to be employed later in life?
Oh yeah, I never wrote about this, but the knowledge of it is sitting in my stomach radiating dread throughout my entire being, so I might as well, and see if I can expunge the horror. So, all summer, my mom and my therapists have been trying to get me to go to a mental hospital, and they have finally succeeded, so on Wednesday, I have to go. Wait, that's a bit overdramatic. It's only outpatient after all, and I get weekends off. But it's still a mental hospital, and I really don't want to do this. What if they try to sell me drugs? What if they use me as a drug mule? What if they shank me? All I know about these things is that if I get out intact, I can write a trashy YA novel about it. I guess that's some motivation, but then again, what if my work doesn't sell? No, there's nothing good about this situation. Well, except for the getting better part. But to be honest here, I'm not sure that this will actually help me get better. It's meant to address the eating disorder, not the other stuff, and that's the one that I feel like I could tackle on my own. (Although then again I haven't been very successful in doing that, so maybe it is good) Basically, I'm really scared, and I don't think it will do any good, and what if it makes my problems worse? When I took health class as a freshman in high school, it made my eating disorder more pronounced, and it took me like a year to get over it (no thanks to any professionals, may I add). And now I'm much worse off than I was then, so I have more to lose, and I might actually end up hospitalized or something if this all goes off the road. Ugh, I feel so weird talking about this stuff. I absolutely don't want to have this problem (not that I want to have my other ones either, but at least I'm not as ashamed of those). I can't even call it by its proper name, I mean an eating disorder is bad enough, but if I were to go around proclaiming that I'd been diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, well that would just be insufferable wouldn't it? Even typing that made me cringe. Maybe I really should get me to a clinic. But what if it turns out like Orange is the New Black? I'm not sure I'm emotionally prepared to be a Piper Chapman! This is going to be a wreck, I know it.
I composed a letter to my department chairs at OSU tonight to tell them that I won't be back because of health reasons, and I'll be attending a university closer to home. Which is true. It's just that it's my mental health instead of physical. But that's just as important, and I think undervalued in this society of ours. But it's pretty sad, I mean I spent a whole year there, and it was an important time in my life (even though it was so difficult), and it's hard to just say goodbye to it like that. And things were just starting to look up too; I'd made some friends (well, like three, but you know), I'd just declared my second major, and I'd finally figured out that the business school was, in fact, part of the university. It just goes along with the reigning principle of my life that as soon as things get good, I leave. (Which, by the way, isn't something that I want to do, it just happens) I'm sure that as soon as I start wanting to live, I'll expire of a heart attack or something. Anyway, it seems that I'm well and truly embarked upon this new course in life, and that's kind of cool or something.
It's 2:39, and I'm done with my tea concoction, so I should probably go to bed. I'm actually sort of sleepy, so it must have worked. This is a scientific breakthrough. Isn't chemistry wonderful? Maybe tonight I will have happy dreams about covalent bonds and things. Okay, I really should get going, so goodnight, and I hope you all have a happier night than I did.

Loveliness

I got an iPhone! It's so pretty and shiny and lovely, and I love it like my newborn child (or at least I imagine if I had a newborn child my love for it would be comparable). Its name is Amaryllis (really it should be Daisy Bell like of my laptop because of Alexander Graham Bell, but my two children must have different names of course). Because I'm a total cheapskate, I bought it used off Amazon, and it's a 4, but that fits my Luddite personality, so I'm very okay with that. Now I can wander around pretending to be a rich person with a social life. It'll be great.
No really though. I'm super super excited.
I finished my chem class today! We had our final, and it was extremely easy, so I'm optimistic as to the outcome of the class. Although I do have to overcome that one 88% on the third test. But still. Oh yeah, I never mentioned that! So I was complaining before because I thought I'd gotten a B on one of the tests, but the person who graded it messed it up, and I actually got an A. So that was a bit counterproductive for me to do all that bellyaching, now wasn't it? Ain't gonna blame me tho; it was a B. Can't do nothin with that.
Now I have some stern advice for the world at large. When you're talking to a person with whom you have the possibility of romantic affiliation, you should not assume that their interest in you is contingent upon emotionless illicit encounters, because, sad to say, it probably is not. No, this person will act like the modern day equivalent of Sir Galahad at all times that he is in contact with you, and even when you are alone in an empty house together, he will conduct himself with such honor and purity that you will stand aghast in wonder. Then, late to the races as you are, you will be thrown off by his baffling chivalrousness and do sundry things to rectify your mistake, including, but not limited to, quoting Latin phrases at him, debating with him about the economy, and telling him your unsavory mental history. And though it seems inscrutable, none of these measures will work, and he will accept you as you are, and you will be left wondering what is happening in the world and what is wrong with the human race in general. This is where I am now, and I'll be durned if I know a dingity dang thing to do about it. If the world at large had any stern advice for me, I would rejoice to hear it.
It's rather late at the moment, but I don't feel at all tired. Still, I suppose I should go to bed, that being the right thing to do and all. I'll just wait until the music comes to a proper close, and then I'll go. After all, it wouldn't do to end on an unfinished note.
I'm not sure if I wrote about this already, but I'll write it anyway. So I got into the honors program at UCLA, and I'm excited, because that's really hard to do for transfer students, so I'm a little proud of myself right here. Mind you, I'm not sure what privileges my new position grants me, but I'm pretty sure extra library time is part of the package, and that by itself is worth it. Also, I get to take honors classes, and that's all anyone could ask of life. Not gonna lie, I'm going to be pretty sad to say goodbye to Ohio State, especially since I only recently declared my second major there, but really, it's UCLA, what are you going to do? I've wanted to go there for years. And who knows, maybe I can have another major anyway (even though I'll technically be a junior there, so I don't think I can declare one, but academia is a mysterious and beautiful thing and maybe things will work out). Even if I can't, though, I can still take more classes, since it's on the quarter system, so I'm sure I could take some English classes just for fun (and for the GPA boost) (not that I need it probably). So that's that. UCLA is splendid, and my future is rapidly becoming the present.
That sounded like I was trying to be poetic, and I really wasn't, so I sincerely apologize for that. It did sound nice though, didn't it?
Okay, I should probably go to bed now, so I'll bestir my weary bones and go. I hope I'm not awakened  unduly early tomorrow! Goodnight!