April 30, 1981

Well, I spent my usual Wednesday night at Ellen's. I took care of Mrs. Hoffman a bit. (I feel so guilty for writing here now, it's the first thing I took out of my bookbag when I got to History). Anyway, I was up in the attic talking to Ellen for a while, then helping Mrs. Hoffman. Ellen and I had a slight altercation. I just don't understand. Mrs. Hoffman is not Mrs. Hoffman. Something is definitely wrong with her. It scares me. I just want to help her. Well, we all know how I am, we just don't know why I want to do this. I certainly don't want to screw anything up, undo what's already been regimentally established, but,

I have made an emotional relapse. I'm depressed since Saturday and I'm eating a lot and this new thing with Mrs. Hoffman has upset me. Next week, I'm going to go back to pushing myself. I'm not going to eat a damn thing. I want to waste away. I wish my grandparents were alive. I loved them so much!! I light Mrs. Hoffman's cigarettes. I even inhaled twice with them. And for the first time too! I wish I understood more. It does me no use to listen to Ellen. She may be so right, so true but I just can't accept it, and I may be so wrong for that. Therefore I wish I could see clearly. I hate myself. I don't do anything right. If Mrs. Hoffman wanted a slave. I give her myself without any hesitation. What's wrong with that. I just want to provide pleasure. I didn't even call my mother yesterday. I hate her. I don't want to be in school now. I am having trouble here. It's hard to be in school when one is depressed. This is a stressful situation. I hate learning about what went on in Russia. It bores me. It saddens me that I honestly learned no history this year. Right now I just had a thought of not seeing Barbara for the rest of the schoolyear, but I can't stand being away. Oh God!!!!! I know I won't be seeing her much this summer. Maybe I won't be able to do that Student Performing Workshop. I don't have the happiness at the moment. All energy, ability, enthusiasm is totally drained from me. I should only have the energy to do homework, not eat. I was doing so well in school the last couple of weeks. Now I'm going to get negative comments. SHIT SHIT, I can never do what I want. I'm so sad, really sad. I'm not even going to be able to stay with Ellen for the week after my mother's fucking wedding. I won't be able to take it. God, I wish I was dead. That's what Mrs. Hoffman said last night.

(Author's note: Here's a perfect example of my having no sense of boundaries. I had a fight with Ellen because I wanted to do more for her grandmother than she would allow me to do. I was unable to respect, at 16, that she had her reasons, and since it was her grandmother, she was entitled to her wishes.

I'm certain I discussed this incident with my psychiatrist because I remember him asking me if I ever saw myself as a saint. "Saint Patricia," he said. He had my number, but I was deeply offended. I also hated the sound of the word "saint" since it reminded me of Catholicism, and I was no fan of that religion. Yes, I saw myself as somewhat of a humanitarian, someone who would one day save the world. That is definitely what I wanted to do with my life - save the world. No doubt.

So Ellen and I had an "altercation," as I liked to call it rather diplomatically, and I ended up feeling bad about myself. Yes, I was a fan of Mrs. Hoffman, but she was my way into the family. I saw that no one wanted to deal with her, so if I could sneak in and be the person who was willing to deal with her, then maybe I could earn my spot in the Torrance family. Yes, I only understand as an adult today, how manipulative that was. I was not altruistic, but rather I was doing something for myself. I even fantasized that I would be the one crying the loudest at Mrs. Hoffman's funeral and everyone would see how wonderful I was. That never happened, as when she died, two years later, Ellen was already in college and I was no longer a part of their family. I was extremely hurt that Barbara didn't call me when her mother died, but several years later she told me that she didn't call anyone. That she didn't want to. I thought that that was my one chance to prove to them how much I loved their family, but I never got that chance. This left me hurt and angry at them for several years).