I've been in college for six years now. After several years of battling depression, abusive boyfriends, my abusive mother, and family crises every time I turned around, I was finally able to get to where I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I've been going in and out of counseling, tried more types of medication I can count on one hand, but it all lead to this semester being my last - or so I thought. I finally broke completely last October. The only thing that keeps me from self harm most of the time is/was my cat. For the past 17 years that had been Ebony. She was diagnosed with renal failure in 2010 and finally passed in late October. I got a new kitten almost immediately so that I had another life to take care of and who would love me unconditionally, and he does. But...it's not enough. I found out today that a) I was dropped from a class I need to graduate, and b) that that doesn't really matter, as I was given faulty information once again and still need two other classes on top of the one I now have to retake. I can't graduate until December. I live at home, avoiding my parents as much as possible so that I am not hounded with questions about myself and my school life. I can't fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, and when I do get sleep I can't seem to get up. I've started having panic attacks again. My cat helps, but ultimately he's still a rambunctious 7 month old kitten and doesn't provide the same stability my older cat could. Yesterday I went back into counseling, but all that ever seems to happen is that she listens to my problems, lets me cry, and then says "Well, let's try these pills this time..." So now I'm on an antidepressant, a mood stabilizer, and have a medicine that helps with the panic by sedating me. The latest consensus is that I'm bipolar 2. The past year all of my childhood pets died, my parents almost divorced, I almost lost my place to live, and now I have to postpone getting my degree one more time. Right now I'm in and out of meetings with my professors, trying to salvage the rest of this semester and impress on them how big of a step it is simply to see me in their class every week. The upside: I do love my boyfriend. He and I have just made the decision to start saving money for a place of our own, and, eventually, a wedding. We're not engaged yet but it's not far off, and he knows about everything going on in my life. He calls me every morning to make sure I haven't hurt myself. He takes me to appointments and drives me when my medication makes me dizzy. He found out how bad things are earlier this week, and it seems to only have strengthened his desire to be with me. But is it enough? I have spent my entire life being told how worthless I am. That doesn't go away overnight. My counselor says that with the new pills I will probably feel worse before I feel better, but I'm not sure if that's possible. I just want to fall asleep and stay that way. The academic advisor I met with today waffled between condescension and indifference the entire meeting, and I wanted to scream. At her, at the school for giving me wrong information again, at my previous advisor who told me I'd be graduating this semester, at myself. I have these vivid dreams where I pack up my car, put my cat in his harness and just drive away. I go south, out of Alaska and back into the lower 48, and start over. I'm a musician and work retail, it wouldn't be hard for me to make money. Ultimately I just don't want to be me anymore.