Saturday is the ninth anniversary of being hospitalized in college.
It’s a pretty big milestone, same as how the following Saturday marks my 30th birthday.
I feel trapped right now. I think my parents are wanting to kick me out, because I’m not getting any results in my job search and thus cannot contribute to the household finances. I clean and try to be useful, but I don’t think it’s enough. I try not to eat here so I don’t use up too much food. I try to just stay out of the way in my room so I don’t have to bother them with existing, but they still find things to complain about. They have this all or nothing view on my illness; either I’m completely disabled and need to go on disability, or I’m 100% ok and need to just suck it up and get a job. Not that I’m not trying as hard as I can. My stepdad’s mad that I don’t get job interviews. My parents want me to start my master’s so I have a chance at finding a job here, but it’s a 3-4 year road, and it starts with the GRE, which I am not sure I’ll be able to pass.
I’m going to restart my job search in the Cincinnati area. I have relatives and friends down there, maybe places I could crash for a month or two until I get my finances in order. I’m just not having any luck and it’s making things really, really tense around here.
I don’t think I got the job. I haven’t gotten a call, but I haven’t gotten a letter either. But the more time goes by, the more I just want to curl into a ball and cry.
Would it be awful to spend my ninth anniversary in the hospital? I’m starting to feel like I might, and I haven’t been that depressed lately. I just… want to escape. I’m trapped and I’m scared and I can’t win no matter what I do.