Move Out

its my last morning having anything to do with the apartment i lived in. im currently in my car waiting for the ra to show up for my checkout. my roommate is sleeping in the common area and therems no where good to sit in the bedroom. i came to get the last bits of my stuff, he left dishes in a sink that looked like it was full of dishes, vomit and water. it wasnt literally thrown up in, but the chunks of food and varies sauces or other things made it resemble that. i ended up going to the commons building to complain to an ra that i wasnt cleaning his mess, and they said it was fine.
this has been the worst summer yet, worse than last year when i was eating once every few days, beating myself with a belt, cutting, and taking sleeping pills to pass the time inbetween. im not supposed to be like this, im supposed to be living among the smartest people in the nation, why couldnt i just deal with my depression and stay there. i wouldnt have started self injury or delved further into my eating disorder. i would be assisting a professor with groundbreaking research, not cleaning up after a manipulative slob. im going to talk to my mom about going to a therapist after finals monday. i have to get something to make me relax.