4. Dark

Dark was my clothes, my makeup, my hair, my attitude, my mood, my life for many years. When I was in grade 11, I had no hope for myself. I didn't think I would be able to finish IB. I almost didn't, I didn't think that I was going to be able to hold myself up against the onslaught of assignments that were actually due for marks and the homework that would help me figure out how my lessons were supposed to be interpreted so that I could make all the answers come to fruition on the tests. I didn't do very well at the end, but I had finished it and I was ready to move on and be happy in University: I could study what I wanted and I could figure out what I was going to do with my life. I was going to find happiness.

Unfortunately, first year went by in a flash and I hadn't done anything but get mediocre grades and stagnate in my personal development; even regress. I fell back into the fandom world and wrote fanfiction and read fanfiction and fangirled on Tumblr 24/7. I capped at 206 lbs on the red and gold couch in our back room.

Second year, I had gotten my shit together enough to shrink a size and get healthier. But I was alone. I looked the best I had in years and no one was interested. I cried. I prayed. And god gave me a golden opportunity which I outlined a few entries ago. I took that opportunity and I found that someone actually wanted to be with me. It was nice.

But my parents didn't like him very much. He was 24 with no degree and no prospects. We fought on and off for the first year of our relationship and further. I wanted to kill myself every two days during the Winter 2014 semester. I thought about it. I confessed my feelings to my parents and got told, once again, that I'm being dramatic. My feelings have always been chalked up to drama and the eternal search for attention. I contemplate my thoughts for days, weeks, months ahead before finally settling on telling them or not. It's painful, holding some of these feelings in. That's why having Alex with me has been so beneficial. He listens and helps and accepts. It's been eyeopening and refreshing and freeing because I'm no longer drowning in my feelings.

We stopped fighting, my parents and I, last June. I told them that I had my best semester yet and that all of their snipes about me leading a frivolous and pointless life while I was school finally stopped. I could finally breathe. I had permission to do what I was that I was doing because I had proved that I could do it and school at the same time. That fight was so freeing.