being real again.

April 

It's been a long time since I've wrote here. I'm surpised they're even letting me have my computer right now. I'm almost more surprised that I'm back and writing here, where I can read the entries I, my old self, wrote a few months ago. I'm currently at New Seasons, rehabilitation, for the 3rd time now. When I was waiting to leave a therapy session, back in December, I tried to call Jennifer, Dad, and they didn't pick up. Dr Marrigan was still at the hospital. I ended up making the last decision to call a cab and visit Elijah at the motel. He was going to be driving South tomorrow. I begged him to take me with him, and then fainted. I showed him my stitched up scars and explained everything that happened. He said he'd take me as long as I eat enough and I call my parents, so I did. He was lying to me, and ended up leaving without me. He wrote me a note saying I had to deal with the visions, and get some help. I didn't for some time; I stayed in the empty motel, slept, and thought about killing myself. Then, I had a new vision. A chance that maybe I really do want to get up and live. I got out of the room, freezing, close to dead. I saw Cassie in the room next to me, she tried to get me across the border, to her world. She tried to pull me back, but I made up with her. She showed me all the possible futures I could have, I showed her that the idea of living wasn't all that bad. I went to the hospital afterward, and now I'm back here. 

It's been a long and hard process, but it's the most important thing I could ever do. I'm done with lying and playing games. I'm done with pretending to eat the food, and working myself out too much. Empty doesn't make you strong, it's food that does. I hate not knowing how much I weigh, but it's something to work on. Sometimes I'll argue with the doctors, since I don't always agree with them, and they'll listen to me.

I read all the books and authors that Elijah enjoyed. Mom, dad, and Jennifer visit to talk through all the crap we need to sort out. We cry, we are hostile, but we don't get nasty, and we don't leave the sessions. Cassie shows up sometimes. Not to haunt me or say mean things anymore; she likes to watch me knit a sweater for mom. Her parents visited too. I wrote Emma many letters, and she brought me a get well card signed by her class when she was finally allowed to visit. Soon enough I'll get to be home with her again. 

To be a wintergirl was to keep yourself in the cold, tired, hungry dark. Eating wasn't something they did. There were many, old and young, keeping themselves in small, sick bodies. It was a mindset that's nearly impossible to get yourself out of. Somehow, I was able to, and I sincerely hope that other wintergirls will be able to find a way out as well. I really am furious that I shivered and starved myself instead of dancing or writing a story or finding someone to love. To think about it, I almost went out like Cassie. Stuck and sad in a motel with bad habits. She wasn't able to make it out of winter, but here I am. Days are getting a little easier as I defrost in the springtime.