34: Hospitals

Mood: Happy

Song: Madchen aus dem all by Tokio Hotel

XXX

So about my last post. It shall forever remain unfinished. What happened right after writing that? Well...

I cut myself. For the first time in over a month. Then I ran away from home and ended up outside a CVS quite a ways away from my house. I started screaming that I wanted to kill myself and that I was going to die. Some lady tried to do an exorcism on me, and I was rushed to the hospital. Well, according to the police and paramedics anyway. I don't remember much of what happened.

The next day I was driven to Holly Hill Hospital. Again. I was handcuffed and in the back of a police car. Again. Well, at least I could see out of the windows this time. Police vans suck. I spent a total of 12 days there. I got out yesterday.

But I've had a complete change of heart. I witnessed something that completely changed my view of my life. This girl, Edith, whom I was very good friends with, tried to commit suicide while we were walking up the stairs coming from visitation. She jumped off the stairs and fell a good 12 feet or so. She passed out and almost died. Seeing that made me scared. I was afraid that she would die. I realized that the people who witness me hurt myself must be as scared as I was when I saw Edith jump. I realized that my life is so much more privileged than hers. Her adoptive parents were going to send her back to Uganda because (as Edith said) they didn't love her anymore. She has nothing, while I have so much compared to her. I think I'm done with this whole "suicide" thing. Hopefully. 

Apparently one of my "friends" goes to my old high school now. You know, the trailer? Anyway, it pisses me off because now he's good friends with some of my good friends. Do they know how irritating he is? Crazy house, my ass. eh hem. WE'RE NOT FUCKING CRAZY! WE ARE NOT TO BE LABELED! SURE WE HAVE EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS AND DISORDERS, BUT THAT DOES NOT MAKE US FUCKING CRAZY! whew. I feel better now. But seriously. It's a psych ward or a mental hospital. Not a fucking loony bin or crazy house. We do not go there because society has thrown us out. We go there for fucking help. He even made a rude remark about how I live in an apartment/condo and he lives in a three story house. I care because? Anyway. I'm much more talented than him. I bet he can't write poetry for shit. Not to mention an entire song.

See? I feel so good about myself! I'm talented. I'm awesome. I'm worth living for. I'm worth loving. I'm worth it enough to stay alive! I'm pretty. I'm...

Okay, so that last one is because of a few people at Holly Hill. This girl thinks I'm sexy (she's really pretty, so it's okay), this guy thinks I'm short and sexy, another guy likes me, and this one girl flat out told me she loved me. I haven't been around people in my age group for so long. Am I pretty? I don't know. But these people think I am. But wait. Don't sexy and pretty mean completely different things? Well, the guy who has a crush on me told me that I'm too pretty to die. That was nice. (although he kept telling people to not touch me because I'm apparently "his girl". Then the girl who kept telling me she loved me would start arguing with him. It was all rather cute, but the girl wasn't). 

The girl who thought I was sexy was only a little less than 14, but she was really pretty. She had this crazy personality that I really liked! Even better than that, I met this lesbian who was in my unit. She was really, really pretty. Unfortunately she only likes studs and I like femmes or lipstick lesbians. I love girls anyway, though. It doesn't matter what your "label" is, because I could fall in love with anybody! Too bad I left the day after she came to the hospital and the day that I found out she was a lesbian. Damn it...

she was really pretty too!

I feel better about myself. <3

And now I'm going to finish reading my Emilie Autumn book :)

Love,

Leeches