i hope you'll understand why i haven't and why i probably won't get to messages for a while.
i just was discharged on friday from a mental hospital
why was i in there in the first place? i mean, long story short, everything goes back to my mom. but i guess depression and a drug addiction and countless suicide attempts in the past and being addicted to cutting.
i'm writing here because i just can't write in my journal anymore, i need to type. and well this is just.. it says new journal entry so well here i go
the first day back i was really "happy", in this pseudo state of mind where i felt really good. i pulled out my old envelopes of papers i'd hoarded from my past and glued them into my journal i'd kept with me in the ward, documenting my stay and filling my time. and i ended this little stage of my life with a blank page with nothing on it but the hospital bracelet, thinking i could simply start anew. it seemed like a good idea, right?
the truth is i'm not sure how i feel being back in the real world .. i was never good at it in the first place. as most of you know i am absolute shit at getting back to people. replying. keeping in touch. just because why the fuck would you want to talk to me? i don't know, there are a lot of reasons. but i guess apologizing would imply that i think you guys actually miss me, and.. well, at this point...
sorry. this isn't supposed to be a self-hating rant, i hate it when people do that. i just have a lot on my mind right now. my therapist told me my mom wasn't a monster
he said she wasn't
a monster
and i started sobbing
i wanted to scream at him. stab him
thAT IS wHY I AM HERE i wanted to say
because people like you won't listen but
i stayed quiet
it's monday now and i've tried so many coping mechanisms to keep me sane. instead of cutting i've been using rubber bands and it's purple up my wrist. i've been making countless friendship bracelets for everyone i can think of(the list is small) just to keep my hands busy. been sitting on the carpet staring at the walls. taking showers three times a day and punching the tile. screaming. i thought recovery would be... possible.
starting to think it might not be
being out of the hospital is hard
i've lost 18 pounds in a couple months and i can't even drink a glass of orange juice without getting full, i can't feed myself, i'm in a mental state of a zombie and whenever i try to eat it doesn't work. i'm on a headache pill in the morning and a schizo/bipolar/depression/sleep pill at night and craving release that i can't have anymore. i have to ask to even shave anymore.
i met a lot of people that had really horrible stories, and almost everyone in there had tried to kill themselves. it's hard to remember that when i look at how strong and amazing they were and how much they smiled. i wish i could go back there. everyone loved everyone. we all shared and accepted. if you needed a friend you had one. and if you cried there was someone to hold your hand and the staff usually allowed it because fucking recovery is hard and fucking holding hands is sometimes the only way to get someone to calm down. their stories make me sick to my stomach because they have to go back to no justice. like me. my mother will never pay for her crimes because my voice will never be loud enough. and my story isn't even that bad compared to some of the ones i have heard. rape. men getting off scott-free liter-fucking-ally and running around fucking more girls and not giving a shit about it. parents abusing the shit out of their children and no one caring.
PEOPLE BEING GAY and getting shunned for it. PLEASE. stop this. stop it stop it stop it.
i came out to my dad as bisexual-maybeevenallthewaygay i don't know- and it's just fucking hard to carry around with you when you know everyone around you hates it. people being shunned/discriminated against for ANYTHING is wrong.
everyone. needs. a voice. and everyone. is equal. that means that we all need to pay for the same crimes. and we all should get the same treatment!
but the fairness of the world is bullshit. legality doesn't matter. look at slavery, which was legal, and alcohol, which was illegal, and then look at weed- god, weed. the one thing that makes me happy. fixes me! my insomnia, my anxiety, my depression, my migraines, my eating disorder- all i have to do is smoke(or even eat, save my lungs) a couple times a week and that's all fixed. but instead they have me on hardcore medication that's going to fuck me up even more than weed would and my dad won't even consider medical marijuana because drugs are bad mmmkay. don't even get me started on that
i had a really bad anxiety attack when i was there and it felt like a demon ripped from me and i had to change rooms all because of the sound a vent made. and this is why i can't stay at friends houses. what would they do? i want to go home.
but i don't have one.
anyway.
i wish all of you the best i really do, especially if you actually read that. if you did, it means so much to me i just can't explain it.
i hope you'll understand why i haven't and why i probably won't get to messages for a while.
i just have no motivation for anything. i'm not even in school anymore. i'm still an outpatient and i'll be going into independent study later.
please smile and have a good day
Sta.sh
)
