I've quit therapy, finally. We were supposed to have a final session last week, but I never made the appointment and she hasn't called again. I lied a few weeks ago and told her I was getting into the free ED group therapy I mentioned on here a while ago. And I also said I was going back to my old therapist for individual sessions, the one I stopped seeing 3 years ago. (I'd be embarrassed to go back to see her, I was doing so well when I ended the sessions with her. I don't want her to see what a mess I became in the interim.) I'm still on my meds and I have almost endless refills and the ability to go get more from my doctor when I need them. I can't afford more therapy even if I wanted it. It was getting to the point where every week was an endless repetition of "I know you don't want to eat, but you need to so you don't get sick" and "I know you're afraid to be in a relationship again, but you should start going on dates."

I've been obsessively cleaning my house in small portions. The kitchen is nearly done, including washing the dishes that have been at the bottom of the sink growing disturbing molds for several months. I've also tackled small parts of the living area and bathroom. The secret behind this is that the weather has finally been sunny and warm, so now at least the seasonal depression has lifted and now I'm able to get out of bed sometimes. Plus my parents are visiting this week and I don't like my mother to see that I generally live in squalor. Annnnnd... the Boy might be coming over to get drunk at my house. At the same time that my parents are visiting. It's probably the worst idea I've ever come up with.

Here's the story: I just can't handle being around my dad without a buffer anymore, so I asked my mom if I could bring a friend on this family outing. Turns out that none of my friends could make room in their schedule for this. In desperation, I asked the Boy if he would hang out with me and promised he could be drunk for this. He said he'll let me know when I see him at work tomorrow. I'm hoping he says yes because I've run out of people to ask and time to find anyone else. But I know most likely he will flake and then I can feel extra sad because as usual I never have friends when I really need them. It's simply not convenient to be friends with me.

As I mentioned, the sunshine has been helping to lift some of the depression. The meds are keeping me generally even tempered and non-ragey. And going anywhere outside after dark induces dry mouthed terror. Hell, having the windows open at night and hearing people walk by on the sidewalk has upset me on more than a few occasions. I've gotten to the point where I worry that someone outside might see the lights on in my windows and decide it would be an excellent idea to break into my house. If I have to be at work after sundown, not only do I spend the entire time worrying about the walk home after my shift, but all the creepy things that customers think are appropriate to say to a cashier feel even more upsetting and threatening. The walk home from work consists of 30 minutes of me thinking I'm absolutely going to be murdered and probably raped by the homeless men and random thugs who catcall me. (As everyone loves to tell me, I am apparently too pretty to be a boy. In the dark from across the street, the creeps always assume I'm a woman.)

This is depressing as fuck. I hate my life.