it was her

regrets and death

journal 1

I've decided to start writing in this stupid diary because my therapist thinks its good for me;

something about getting closure about my moms drug overdose last summer, but I'm not

surprised I knew my dad would send me to this whole counseling thing. I think he feels bad for

knowing I had been living with my mom and her addiction for years and all he did was send

child support checks and the occasional happy birthday cards. don't get me wrong though my life wasn't terrible

When my mom was sober, she was this beautiful soul; always living life to the fullest and telling

me her crazy stories, they'd always end in someone falling in love with her

and sure her relapses or the six times I had to call 911 were things that weren't great but there the reason I don't

cry about my moms death. I saw her slowly fade away before anyone else did,

I guess the fucked up part is i had already known i lost my mom before i actually did.

after she died i was sent to live with my dad, I've been living with him for a while now, he's always so nervous

to even talk to me so its awkward most of the time and since I was diagnosed as severely depressed

he probably just doesn't know how to and I don't blame him i would'int either . its fine though i have bigger problems like the doctors telling him there concerned for my "eating habits and health"

I guess being 180 pounds and 5'4 to now 125 is concerning. The funny thing is before i

didn't care about my weight but somehow last summer it was the

only thing I could control guess I'm paying the consequences now.

I don't know anyone in this town either but, dad thought a new start would be best

it also means I get to reinvent myself, a 17 year old brunette with blue eyes and a body that's been sculpted by days and months of starving I'm sure ill fit in well.