So a lot has happened since I updated last. First of all, the most sad to report, are all the people who have died.
On June 14, Cameron died. Ronni was an integral part of my childhood; she was one of my sisters' best friends. She had a tough life in general, but what she endured as a child is really appalling. I'm sure there's even more that I don't know, but I remember learning as I got older that Ronni was incredibly strong. Besides that, she was brilliant. She spoke several languages fluently, played many instruments, and taught herself organic chemistry because she was bored.
She was diagnosed with an extremely rare form of cancer, and was given very little time. She died at the age of 26. It was a really hard process for our entire family.
I don't know if I've ever spoken about it any journal I have, but here it goes. We're a very open and welcoming family; our friends know that no matter what, they always have a home here with us. As such, my parents 'adopted' various friends over the years as their additional daughters. When adopted into the Kelly family, you acquire a number, and that is the number child you are. It's sort of like a birth order type of thing.
My sister Monica is #1, because she was born first. Then comes #2, Bridget, and I'm #3. Then it goes in the following order:
- Ronni #4
- Danielle #5
- Liz #6
- Andrea #7
- Kristina #8
- Jacqui #9
- Katie #10
- Amanda #11
- Alyssa #12
- Catherine #13
We typically don't take on boys as a general rule on the off chance that a relationship with any of the aforementioned daughters begins; it would be incest! We have always said that if the boys were to have numbers, the only one that would be given would be to Ian, a friend of my brother-in-law that lived with my family for a bit when I was in eighth grade.
So as you can see, Ronni's death was not only difficult for my sisters, but for our family. Hopefully she is now finally at peace.
Less than a week after Ronni's wake, my friend Quinn passed away on June 22. He was diagnosed with a rare type of brain tumor many years ago, and had struggled to beat it ever since. He lost his battle at the age of 19, but not before touching the lives of countless people. The line at his wake was out the door of the funeral home; we waiting in line for an hour. I had known Quinn through In the Spotlight, the local summer theater program I participated in during high school. He was an awesome kid; sweet, funny, and gave great hugs. I had a crush on him for a while when I was younger even. It's really a pity.
And finally, the last person. His name is Collin. He's the brother of my/Steve's friend Britainy. He was tragically killed in a car accident last Saturday at the age of 19.
Why do things like that happen? In less than a month, I know of at least 3 people under the age of 30 who have died. THAT IS RIDICULOUS. Incredibly heartbreaking, and stupidly ridiculous.
On a different note, I'm going crazy here in Connecticut. I'm literally going insane. I can only take so much of my family, and most of my really good friends live at least an hour away. I've been looking for a job, but I haven't been able to find anything that I even qualify for to apply.
I miss Steve. I saw him less than a week ago, and I miss him. I'm continuing to fall more and more in love with him, and I want to be near him. It's getting harder for me to leave him each time I visit, and watching him leave me is even worse. Tomorrow we will have been dating for 11 months. One year is right around the corner! I can't even believe it. It's so incredible to think about where I was a year ago; how much I've changed and how far I've come. I mean, just look back at my old posts. I was a mess.
Not only was I dealing with my feelings surrounding the Tim situation, but I was trying to learn how to eat properly again.
I have not talked about it much on here; maybe because I didn't even realize what was happening until it was long over. I had a small stint with anorexia. I was apparently on a watch at school, and my roommates sought help because they were so concerned. Looking back on it, I see it. I didn't eat. My body was lucky if I put anything into it. I didn't even eat ice cream, and if you know me, you know what a shocking statement that is.
I'm starting off to try and workout and eat right now. It's only been an active effort for a couple of days, but I think I can do this. I want to look better and actually feel confident in something other than the color of my eyes. The biggest portion of the weight is off; I lost 30-35 lbs during the anorexia phase last year. I want to lose another 10 lbs or so, but that number could be less if I could gain muscle and be more toned. I just don't want to be flabby and fat anymore. I'm sure what I see in the mirror is different than what other people see, especially because people tell me how great I look all the time.
But I don't believe them. They don't see it. I sit in front of my mirrors in my room and scrutinize every blessed day. I pull at my fat and try on multiple outfits before settling on one that only me looks slightly fat instead of being a complete obese elephant.
I remember the first psychologist I went to going into my junior year of high school. We touched briefly on the body image; but honestly, I don't remember talking about it with anyone else. Man, that made me think about one of my counselors, Rachael. She was the one I had during my sophomore year of college. She was so incredibly fantastic I could spend an hour singing her praises. She wasn't even technically a part of the counseling center, either; she was an intern. I'm sure she is engaging in a very successful career now.
Junior year I went to Pam. She stared at me weird. And the Monday after I started dating Tim (we starting dating on a Saturday), she was like, "Well, you just seem so happy! Would you like to stop counseling" Of course, blinded by my new relationship, I said yes. This is the same woman who wanted to medicate me not a month before. Surprise, surprise I broke when Tim broke up with me. There was still so much going on!
But really, I have come so far personally over the last year. I was broken emotionally, physically...as a person. Now, I'm happy (besides the living in Connecticut thing). I have a wonderful boyfriend who I love to the ends of the earth, and I'm finally not in school anymore! I know where I want to live, and finally I'm not afraid of being myself. Now if I could just figure out what I want to do for work, we'd be all set! We'll get there. I'm in no rush. Things will fall into place in time; if there's anything I've learned this past year, is that life is short, and everything can change in the blink of an eye. Who knows what the next year holds; but here's to making the best of it.