I tried to sleep as late as I could today since I'm at one of my lows. Yesterday I had a good day most of the day and last night and this morning I've been at my wits end. I sit here now with a tear streaked face and wishing I was buried somewhere intead of typing.
What the fuck am I doing with my life? I can imagine that of course there are people much worse off than I am. But why do I have to be in so much pain? Why was I sitting on the floor in the corner this morning rocking and crying? Why do I still have thoughts of ending my life?
I remember writing before that I didn't blame them for how I am. I remember writing that I didn't think that THEY were the reason I am the way I am now. I changed my mind. I blame those men for taking my innocence and taking away my will to live.
A couple of nights ago I watched a movie called "Girl Interrupted" and this movie brought up a lot of stuff for me that I would've rather kept inside. Kneeling on the floor with that broken mirror under my knees and shards in my hand slicing across my wrists. A child. I was a little girl. I was a little girl. I was a little girl...A little girl but a little girl who had lost her innocence and the will to live. As I sliced across my wirsts feeling the stinging, I couldn't think of why I was in pain. All I could think of was how to end it.
Oh my god mommyyyyyyyyy! She's bleeding! I'm fine, I'm fine.. Get out... Don't tell.. Mommyyyyyyyyyyyy!!! It took her about 10 minutes to get downstairs to see what was wrong. Because I heard her scream from upstais I'll be there in a few! I'm doing something! Thanks mom... Anyway she came down and stood there looking horrified at what she saw and didn't know what to do. Finally she got some towels and wrapped them around my hands but whenever I got the chance I took them off. She didn't call a neighbor for help because no way was anyone going to know her daughter wasn't perfect. She called a car and we were off to the hospital. My cuts weren't all that serious. I was given butterfly stitches on a few of them and then they asked my mother to have me pshychologically evauated. She said no, and that I was fine and we were going home now. They said that she misunderstood. It wasn't a request. Someone came to talk to me to ask me what happened and I refused to talk. I was so blank. They told my mother I was going to be admitted into the adolecent psychiatric ward. She got on the phone immediately and I remember hearing her say, what am I going to tell people...right...ok...that might work...ok....thanks so much...we'll be in touch....click.
and you can tell
from the state of my room
that they let me out too soon
and the pills that i ate
came a couple years too late
and ive got some issues to work through
there i go again
pretending to be you
make-believing
that i have a soul beneath the surface
trying to convince you
it was accidentally on purpose
She signed the papers and told me that she would bring me some of my own clothes in a week. A week??? How long was I going to be there for? The first three days are an observation period and I wasn't allowed out of my room nor was I allowed to wear anything but double hospital gowns, one in frot and one in back. They gave me some hospital pants to go under too. I was medicated which only made me not want to talk more. I think I went those 3 days not saying one single word. It was all surreal. I can still smell the ward.
It didn't take long before I learned the ropes of this place and how it worked. Boys and girls mingled during the day and they were just right down the hall when we slept. It really wasn't so hard to run down the hall and be in their rooms. We had mixed therapy groups and the more I stayed in this place, the less innocent I became. The more I learned about boys and girls and sex and drugs. The more I learned to manipulate to get what I wanted. Get in a bad mood and scream.
Here come the pills. Get in a sad mood and cry. Here come more pills. Sleep. Serene. Escape. Pills...escape....drugs....escape...sleep...pills....Nurse...I need a PRN....Why? I feel anxious....ok....How anxious do you feel? Very...ok. I'll be right back...try to breathe....smile...pills...water...sit back...wait....wait...wait....drowsy....light headed....dreamy....sleep....escape.....pills ...What a way to teach a little girl to deal with pain huh?
and you can tell
by the red in my eyes
and the bruises on my thighs
and the knots in my hair
and the bathtub full of flies
that i'm not right now at all
there i go again
pretending that i'll fall
don't call the doctors
cause they've seen it all before
they'll say just
let
her
crash
and
burn
she'll learn
the attention just encourages her
OK. I think I've written enough for the time being. At least I stopped crying. But I think I want to touch more on my hospital memories in my next post. It seems to be helpful.
