I am sitting in the same place I sat last week when I first told you lovely readers the devastation that has become my life. It has been one week, barely. I have new "things" and a new perspective. I am alive. My cat is fine. I saved his life, and my own. Here is a scary thought: I was depressed. What if I would have used the fire as my opportunity to die "accidentally"? What if I would have laid in my bed and let the flames engulf me, slowly suffocating me, so painfully, so tragically?
Ah, the what-ifs will kill me if this overwhelming, pressing urge to live on doesn't. I will make the most of my life. Ana readers, listen up. Tragedy kills your appetite. I have not binged. Food is not a reward anymore. Food is nothing but something that will prolong my life. I don't need much.
Just wanted to update, I guess. I can't read. I can't write. I am not very inspired. I am getting sick. I have a place to stay until the end of the semester, and then I am moving home (can't wait). I am ok. I am not ok. A stupid girl who lived two floors down from me started the fire because she was drunk and careless. Let that be a lesson to you. Fire kills.
I was on the news. My cat is thriving, he has much more space here, plus a friend (my roommate has a kitty). I have got some new clothes, but clothes don't mean much anymore. What does? I am still trying to figure it out. My path to salvation is not clear. I wonder if it ever will be?
I missed classes today, but emailed my professors. I am listening to music and I do really love music. I miss my i-pod and Lose it app. I miss lots of things, mostly my sense of security. I am terrified of candles now: do not ever light one around me. I mean it, I'll punch you.
T. saved me last week. The fire was last Monday. He came to my rescue; he brought us (cat and I) to his apartment, gave me clothes (because I was wearing shorts and a tee, having just woke from nap), he slipped me a twenty dollar bill and a pack of cigs; he is a kind soul.
We also spent Saturday night together. I need him, or anyone, maybe. I have myself now. I was saved for a reason.
I love you all, I wish I could want to type more now. But I don't. I am so emotionally and physically exhausted and my mind is a blank slate. Please count your blessings. Please remember that nothing is permanent.
Oh, and think thin.