Psychology teacher

My psychology teacher cornered me at the end of my lesson today. I semi-told him about my assessment at the clinic a while ago, because his double lesson was the only school I missed that day, and I wanted to explain to him I wasn't just skiving.

I only told him I had a medical appointment that my parents didn't know about at a clinic. I think he was torn between thinking I was pregnant and deciding whether or not to have an abortion, and guessing about the depression.
So today when he cornered me: "obviously I'm not pressing for details if you don't want to talk about it, but what was it about?" He's so nosey.
"Oh, well, I um... I'm diagnosed with depression." Fuck telling him I was actually diagnosed as chronic low mood (I swear that's not even a thing), suicidal and bulimic. Depression is easier to explain. Everyone claims they're depressed these days, no one even blinks an eyelid if you tell them that's what's wrong. No one actually knows what it is.
His first response was "yeah, I'm not really surprised"; I guess I won't be getting any Oscars for my acting any time soon.
My psychology teacher kept me there for ages asking me really searching questions, clearly loving the opportunity to act like a psychologist. I mean he does have a doctorate in psychology, so I guess he did know what he was saying, but still.
Luckily I was in a good mood for most of today, so I didn't cry this time. But I feel like he doesn't think I'm actually depressed because I wasn't as upset as I was last time I spoke to him about it. I mean in his lesson today he clearly ran out of steam and we spent half an hour looking up funny baby videos on youtube, to study 'perception in neonates', haha. Now I'll feel like every time I do anything even slightly cheerful in his lessons he'll be analysing me.
When I finally left the classroom and started walking home I looked down at my hands and they were covered in semi-lunar fingernail marks, is there any situation where I don't need to constantly cause myself pain just to get through?

My arms are covered in scars that weren't there last year.
After my really bad self-harming stage two years ago where I caused most of my non-fading scars, I've been careful to only graze the skin so they don't leave permanent marks. Clearly somewhere along the way that failed, my arms are now covered in them. Even the top side of my lower arms, I almost never cut there, but somehow they're covered right at to the wrist in marks.

Sorry this was meant to be a cheerful post, I just saw my scars out of the corner of my eye whilst I was typing.

Oh and may I add: I finished my history coursework. It's a bit on the short side, but even though it's meant to be the final draft, my teacher's looking through them all and telling us improvements so we can perfect them before they're submitted. So I'm not too worried.

Even though I still have another piece of history coursework to do which is due in next week, I feel like a massive weight has been lifted. I'm slowly getting back on top of my work.

I'm still fat though. Grossly fat. This is a picture of me from my friend's 18th birthday party, I look so huge. I just want to be skinny.

I'm the one on the far left, with the bulging stomach. 

The girl second from the right (with her knee sticking up weirdly) is so so skinny. I wish I was as small as her. 

Also sorry my hair and face is so disgusting in this photo, I got horrible rained on when I was walking to her house, literally soaked to the skin I had to steal an entire outfit off her, hence the weird baggy cardigan which doesn't go with what I'm wearing, I did have a long sleeved shirt on which covered my cuts, but it got soaked and she didn't have any long sleeved tops that I saw, so I had to pretend I was freezing and steal a jumper. 

Anyone, point being. I need to lose weight. I'm sick of hideous photos like this appearing on facebook.