Another Relapse

Yesterday I had a terrible relapse. See, on Wednesday I went in for an HIV test because I had sex without a condom (not a regular occurrence, definitely a mistake. BTW I'm on birth control, I'm not entirely stupid.) and I'm actually...you know...somewhat responsible. But even though I'm about 99% sure I'm negative, it's still a stressful experience. The same held true when I got tested for STIs last year (responsibility again). Suspense is an awful thing. But Friday in Biology, we were learning about prokaryotes (i.e. tiny one celled things) and the professor showed a picture of an HIV virus (looks like a nubby ball!). That was a bit unnerving, but I held up. Then in Differential Equations, we were learning about some differential equation that pertained to HIV research. We did that for about 15 minutes, but that was long enough to get the reality of HIV embedded in my brain. Now when this happens, my mind switches automatically to worst-case scenario. My dreams of being a engineer/doctor would go out the window. I couldn't stand to be around other people, as an infected pariah. I would die a slow, horrible death if I didn't kill myself soon. Jumping off the bridge into a rocky creek (break my neck rather than drown). My eyes were wet and my nose started to run, while sitting in class. How embarrassing...and I couldn't leave the room cause it was a small 35-person class and I was near the front. I didn't learn a thing in Differential Equations that day, I was just too depressed. I went back to my dorm and tried to take a nap but I couldn't stop crying. I remembered that my parents were going to take me to dinner that day. But when I think of my parents, I automatically think of that one day over winter break where my dad threw me against a wall and held my face up to look at him...then my mom standing there doing nothing. I feel like that's how I'm going to think of them forever. An abuser and an enabler. Hypocrites, both. I don't think they care much if their most hated daughter just loses it...that's what's happening now anyways. I made the mistake of bringing it up with my mom last year. She told me that SHE WASN'T THERE TO SEE IT. I have never felt so betrayed in all my life. My mom has always lied to me a lot. About meat in my food, and she takes the blame for my sisters screwing with my stuff (which is unhealthy for all parties involved). But this is just unacceptable. How could she not remember the image of my terrified face as my enraged dad renders me helpless? It was permanently burned into my mind, I guess not hers. Well good for her I guess. One less thing to stress about. Anyhow, my mom just tried to nullify all of my progress in therapy by telling me offhandedly that whatever my dad did was wrong. Great. I know that, it's the reason I'm in therapy. When I wouldn't accept that remark, she tried to defend my dad by telling me what a great father he is and how I'm so lucky blah blah blah. Well now I know whose side she's on. My therapist suggested I talk to them about it again but no way will I ever do that. I'd rather just talk about it to a third party.