Broken

Im falling apart.

I've come home for a short holiday. Three weeks I have been gone and there are cobwebs in my bedroom. Spiders in my heart.

-Ever since "the incident" it's like I want to make myself ugly. I think that is why I binge. Why I dress in layers. Keep me far away from men. The incident. I haven't spoken of it yet. It is still fresh. Only two and a half weeks ago.

I already have a strange relationship with men. I love them as doctors, prefer them for teachers. I think they're wonderful. I become incredibly attached to older male figures in my life, but resist at the same time. I am afraid of losing them or being rejected by them. I am an ambivalent figure.

My family and friends persuaded me to talk to my counselor about the incident. I hadn't seen her since April, so I unwillingly booked an appointment, only to find out she won't be in for awhile. They said I could see someone else that day. I went to my appointment, only to discover they had booked it with a man. How awkward to talk about that thing with a man. I guarded myself, needed to make sure he didn't have all of the authority. I needed to not be vulnerable to him.

-The need to have control stems from the incident as well. My body. Make it like a girl's. A girl who doesn't hurt. I suppose I've always aimed for that.

Worried about school. Nervous for Mom's condition. On top of that.  Just let me keep the hurt at bay until after tomorrow, let the wedding bring a little light as the fat girl watches two lovers come together as one.