I don't want to go into too much detail because it will do nothing but upset me.
Since this last hospitalization of mine, things have started to get rough between my roommate and I. The communication between us was quite poor and it lead to some arguments. Thankfully, neither of us are confrontational so there was no yelling or screaming involved, but some very upsetting things were said.
The thing that got to me the most was when my friend said she felt as though I wasn't trying. I'm trying my ass off. I'm not in the hospital to dick around. I'm here to get better. To be safe. If I didn't want to get better I'd be overdosing a lot more, skipping class, binging and purging all the time, and I would have checked myself out of the hospital a long time ago. As much as I want to die, part of me doesn't, and that part of me is working so damn hard to try to get better.
Because of this, my roommate and I have decided to get different houses (well, I decided this and I don't know how much it's affecting her). She hasn't replied to my messages which worries me, I don't want this to be personal, I just think it would be better if we lived apart.
I really wish I could afford to live alone. That's the dream. I'm hoping once I move across the country for graduate school I'll be able to live alone. That means 10 more months of undergrad, paying cheap rent, living with a roommate in order to save up enough money to live alone in 2018. I get a lot of anxiety living with other people, especially with regards to food. The idea that someone else knows exactly what I'm eating makes me feel judged. It makes only my bedroom a safe place, instead of having my entire house be a safe place. I feel as though I need to wear a mask even in my own house.
I'm just hoping I'm able to get my own apartment next year. That's the goal. I need to save my money - which means less binging and purging - in order to have the finances to do so.