Friday went to **** really quickly. The night wasn't too bad, I had a friend come over and we saw the new X-Men movie, but the day? Bad.
Recently in Drawing class we had to do a self-portrait, including a background. For my background, I chose to do song lyrics. the entire theme of the picture was depression, so the songs reflected that. Apparently, that was a bad move.
My teacher got worried and referred me to the school psychologist.
Didn't know who it was at first - the teacher just said, "I want you to meet her, here's a pass to her room." Went to the place she was located and met her.
When I stepped into her office, I immediately knew who she was. I saw a psychology book next to her computer and the DSM V and IV stacked on a filing cabinet.
She introduced herself and began asking questions regarding the project. I opened up and talked about the depression. (I mean, there was no use lying, the project gave it away.)
And then, I accidentally said something about my struggles with self-injury and I kept trying to talk my way out of it but I ended up digging a really deep hole. The woman found out that my last injury was only two weeks ago and she called my mom to let her know.
Ended up going home early and Mom and I talked. Mom says she's hurt that I didn't tell her and I think I've lost the privilege of staying home alone all summer. According to Mom, "If I could trust that you'd call me and tell me when you were feeling like ****, I would let you be alone, but I can't trust that you would do that."
So, she doesn't trust me. To be honest, ever since I first told her I SI'd, I've always been sure she never trusted me again. And this just
gives her reason to do so.