I might not be going back to college this year. My parents don't have faith in me that I'm going to continue on my path of recovery and will end up dying and/or killing myself within a semester's time, and I have one month to prove to them that I'm healthy, I'm not a drug-fiend or drug addict, and that I'm not going to get romantically involved with a certain man that they don't approve of.

This all coming after I get myself in to recovery, of course. I've got myself a psychologist, a nutritionist, and I'm getting myself on an eating plan and friggin prozac for them, and they still have no faith in me. *sigh*

And sadly there's not going to be any art from this summer. The lack of support I've been receiving from those I needed it from the most has really taken a negative toll on my productivity - specifically, more time was spent with me curled up crying or having anxiety attacks than there was spent working on my drawing and painting skills. I'm sorry for those who were expecting some. I guess I just yet again proved that I'm a failure and a disappointment to everyone, like I've always thought.