I finally have reached the point where I really just want to throw my hands up and say "Thats it. I give up." and let everything else win.
It's a catch-22, like I was telling Heather. I don't want to talk to my mom about it because I feel like that would ruin her happy life right now. But by not telling her, I'm ruining my life. And by not saying anything and giving in, I'd ruin both our lives.
Then again, if I say something she will do the same thing again and again. Shrug it off like not talking about it and doing something about it will make it go away. It's not magic, mom. Just plain old me.
I wonder if I'll make it through Spring Semester. I wonder if I'll make it through the Christmas break. I wonder if I'll make it to Christmas. I wonder if I'll make it through tomorrow.
I guess we'll just have to wait and see.
I wish I could honestly not say that this has been my last six years of life. But it has. And I know I'll wake up tomrrow and paint that mask on, open my door, take a deep breathe and smile as if my life depends on it. Oh, but wait, it does.