So it's been almost two weeks since my last entry. Things have been a little crazy, but when aren't they?

Lets see, I got drunk one night and had a threesome with my best friend and this guy I wanted to get with. Then a few nights later I got drunk again and hooked up with this other guy I was really crushing on who I didn't think was interested. He kinda attacked me in the bathroom and it was fun :) We are now together, and I'm very happy with him. He treats me great, and he's so understanding about everything.

But he told me last night that he's got a bump down there and he is worried. I freaked out of course, feeling all sorts of guilty and self-loathing, angry at myself for giving him something I didn't know I have. (I still don't know, we were going to go to Planned Parenthood today but then I got in trouble... again) I know this all makes me sound like a huge slut but I'm really not... I just like sex. I should have protected myself better, and if I really am positive (which looks like a good possiblity unfortunately) then it's going to suck to trace it back and find out who gave it to me. I have a good idea but I don't really want to think about it anymore than I have to.

Things at home suck. I hate my parents and I hate their rules. It's such bullshit, I'm almost an adult and they still treat me like a child. My mom's excuse is that I have to act like an adult to get treated like one, my reply is that I just want to rebel if they're going to treat me like a baby because it's going to take too long if I do it their way.

So I didn't come home on time last night (I was busy smoking rock... first time in almost a week, I've really been trying to cut down and I want to stop completely... I will make it but its a process) and I didn't come home by curfew. I got up this morning and my mom had left me a message telling me not to go anywhere. I was going to leave anyway since no one was home. But they got home just as I was about to leave, and we got into a knock-down, drag-out fight. I told her I wanted to leave, that I would leave, to which she replied that I could if I wanted, but it would suck because then I couldn't go to college. I was really upset by all of this, and had nowhere to go with all this anger. Crying out of frustration, I took it out on myself. Only three fresh cuts, but one is really deep and still hurts. I talked to my bf Greg after and he comforted me a lot... said it made him sad that I would hurt myself and that I should have called him first. I probably should have but I didn't want him to see me like that, so weak and exposed. I want him to know me as bubbly and fun to be around, happy and carefree (which I usually am now, I'm pretty much back to being myself... the self I was before any of my depression/eating issues)

I feel like I'm on a cycle of destruction and I don't care enough to get off of it. It's scary in a way but I just gotta keep pushing forward and hope it can get better if I work at it.

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