2007-03-28/3:33 p.m.

"turn my milk to gall"

the boy has to get his gallbladder removed. he has surgery this evening. i cannot be there. he will be alright, and he is no longer in the excrutiating pain that he was in last night before i convinced him to return to the hospital.

im worried about him, but at least when i worry about him it feels necessary, instead of having anxiety attacks about nothing in particular, a sure sign that i am the postergal for mental unwellness again. sigh.

i miss him. i want to be there to snuggle him and tease him about not having any gall with all sorts of renaissance references to put my sorry-excuse-for-an-english-degree to good use.

speaking of which, i dont know if i will even be able to major in english after this term, if i fail that cultural studies course that i registered in as an english course. i will have to talk to my senior tutor about that. sigh.

i wish i had his hospital name and room number so that i could call him to cheer him up. i would tell him about kittens cute adventures today and the lovely weather outside. i would.

time to go for a walk, i think, to stop feeling so sorry for myself and to look ahead to summer and to appreciate my gallbladder. poor boy.

or maybe i will watch lost and delirious for the one scene in which they read from macbeth. perhaps.

i must also think of the best get-well-soon present ever. ever. time to think.

my dads still sick and has to get his PSA test redone to determine whether the high reading was a fluke or really is a warning sign for prostate cancer.

danny is in the hospital after crippling bouts of abdominal pain and might have complications or residual effects for the rest of his life.

and here i am, all woe-is-me about my very treatable mental disease and instead of treating it, i waste a semester, my parents money, my time, and jeopardize my academic career. fuck. what an idiot. there are people that are actually sick and actually have to go to the hospital, and i just keep thinking about how i wish i could be in there too.

i miss the boy. hes my rock. he helps to change my distorted thinking patterns into productive ones. i wish i could be by his side and be the supportive one this time. i want to be there, but his mom told me not to come. sigh.

now i remember why i stopped writing here - i hate having a record of my thoughts. i hate having evidence that im a self-absorbed jerk. sigh.

time to go do something productive. maybe.