Almost through one day. Two more to go and then I’ll be on my way home. It feels like time is moving incredibly slowly, like each day is a week long. I feel like I’m on the verge of panicking when I think of it, so I am trying to just breathe deeply and find ways to make the time pass without noticing it.
I’m not enjoying anything, even things that should be enjoyable. And I certainly don’t enjoy my parents asking if I’m “working on my weight” or criticizing me eating, Jesus!