depression · family · life

fifteen.

My dog died.

My life is always an adventure. My dog was 13. I knew it was coming but it still doesn’t make this any easier.

My family got him months after my dad passed away as an emotional support animal. He was perfect. He would snuggle with my mom when she had cancer. When I came home upset with school or work he would be there. He smiled. He loved pepperoni, French fries, and girl scout cookies. He loved to make you look at his rear, it was big and fluffy. He would give out judgmental huffs when appropriate. I miss him.

He passed away while I was at work. I covered a shift for a co-worker and then came back to check on him on my lunch break and he was dead. I wrapped him up, cleaned up, called my mom, and went back to work because I didn’t know what else to do.

I had to go get my mail alone today. Unsupervised.

The worst is that this is like a marker that my dad is really gone, and has been gone for a long time.

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depression · life · math · School

fourteen.

Alone.

School is finished and I’m officially avoiding everything to do with it. I have an incomplete to finish and I can’t be bothered until after I see my family. My friends are gone and the one last person around is the one who started all this.

She confronted my friend and told her we were talking shit about her throughout the math department. Judging her ‘life choices’.

First, I don’t talk to anyone in the math department. I don’t trust anyone as a consequence of all of this.

Second, I don’t know what life choices she has that I have been judging. She’s 21. What choices has she made? Anything I had questions about I told her to her face. I told her to her face that taking her credential online alienates you from job prospects because many administrators will throw your application in the trash. It’s true. I inquired about her plans after college because every time she talked they changed. I never wanted to work in the charter school she worked at, and I never told anyone why. So I am unsure of what life choices she has that I told anyone in the math department I disapproved.

Most importantly she said that people are saying I did not deserve my research opportunity. They are saying that my professor is making concessions for me and to them it is becoming apparent that he is a predator and I probably slept with him to get special treatment.

And this.

This hurts the most.

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thirteen.

The university found her.

And I’m sitting here, heart pounding anticipating the argument to come. Probably not going to sleep tonight. Probably going to vomit several times.

Sara couldn’t wait two fucking days to let this girl graduate. I can’t fucking believe it.

depression · life · math · School

twelve.

I got scolded.

I don’t know how I didn’t anticipate this reaction. I fully believed he would let me walk out of the school. He’s right, I would be giving up.

But I still don’t believe I am good at this. It’s been 18 years and I still believe that I am bad at math. I still believe that if I ask a question I am going to be shamed and told to sit away from everyone else because it is such a stupid question. I still freeze up when asking questions.

I literally had to email a question I had from office hours and felt so embarrassed asking it, and my only mistake a was a simple algebra issue. I understood the rest of the process, the actual linear algebra process, but I couldn’t see a substitution error and I was embarrassed. I still feel stupid that it took meĀ hours and re-reading the explanation numerous times to get it.

I’ve worked years to get over this and just when I feel like I have a bit of confidence, it tumbles down.

I believe I am so bad at this, that I completely believed a professor I’ve had for 2 years now would let me walk out of the school without a fight.

Maybe I don’t even believe I deserve this.

depression · life · Relationships · School

eleven.

I just want to drive home and disappear for a significant amount of time.

I don’t want to receive anymore emails guilting me into naming her.

I don’t want to receive anymore text messages from her trying to get information.

I don’t want to deliver anymore bad news to anyone.

I just want to disappear.

Like, fuck the university telling me that they “want to protect her.” I’ve been dealing with this chaos for TWO FUCKING YEARS. A TWO FUCKING LONG YEAR MINDFUCK. This shit has played into every single one of my insecurities and these people let me feel so fucking alone and isolated that I have allowed myself to fall into a depression so bad I was hospitalized and am on medication. Where the fuck was the university then?!

Fuck this. I have finals this week and I have no emotional power whatsoever.

depression · life · Relationships · School

ten.

I keep hoping that at a certain point my numbered posts will be useless. But here I am again.

A classmate of mine not involved in the investigation made a comment that he “…is in trouble with the school”, and attributed this as being the reason why he is more distracted than usual. I know I didn’t say anything to them, and the other two people involved don’t even know her. So it’s the girl who started this. I just can’t believe that this is how people actually operate.

I couldn’t even stop this gossip. I couldn’t tell them whatever she heard was untrue, or admit that I knew nothing happened. Because then I’m admitting I’m involved and the existence of an investigation.

People will always believe what they want.

After this statement the same classmate went into his office hours and I sat outside listening to her tell him how he’s full of himself and a narscissist when he teaches because he goes fast. So fucking gutsy and disrespectful, because she believes she knows something about him. And THIS is why these lies are so fucking poisonous regardless if the investigation goes his way. Because people will believe what they want and treat you accordingly.

And what’s sad is that he will not assume respect.

I feel so helpless. And I am still feeling fucking guilty as hell. I am so angry it hurts my heart.

life · School

nine.

My witness notes came back today.

Holy fuck what a shitshow. I don’t even know the process by which I can fix this. My interview was so sporadic that these notes are all over the place and ridiculous.

How much is expected for me to add? Take away? Should I just strikethrough rather than delete.

And some of this is just so randomly placed.