I looked in the mirror that day and thought to myself "dear god, what've I done" I stared at my body and was pulled into disgust as I always am. I look at my stringy bleach blonde hair, wishing it was different, different how? I'm not sure just different. I've wanted every single part of me to be different for as long as I can remember. I look at my skin and its color, wishing it was different, different is the word I've burnt Into my soul and mind truly. I'm wearing a black long sleeve shirt, that's all I ever wear nowadays, black. Black has became "my" color. Black kind of describes me. It just seems right. And the long sleeves? Well I think we know why I wear those. My life has been this way for years. And I'm so young but feel so old. It started when it happened. When he left us. My father. And it all kind of spiraled down hill after that. Me being disgusted with myself. People at school being disgusted with me. I've tried to cope but all that has done is cause doctors appointments and weekly trips to the psychologist, dr. Monroe. He's prescribed every thing in the book for depression and body dysmorphia, that's what he calls it any way, but nothing's helped it ha-
"Jeremiah" my mother rudely interrupts my thoughts of course- "your going to be late honey"
"Mom do I really and truly have to go to this?" I ask
"Jeremiah dr.monroe said it was something we could try and you know there's kids there that know what your going through and they might can help you"
"Yeh mom I'm sure a bunch of messed up kids sitting in a circle talking about there problems will make me feel just peachy" I say sarcastically.
"Listen your not messed up and neither are they, there just.....there just-
"Yes mom messed up" I interrupt
"Ugh, Jeremiah please just get ready, your going to be late"
I put on my black |of course| converses and find my way to the blue Buick sitting in the driveway. Now when I say Buick I don't mean flashy 140,000 $ car I mean 1990 creaky door flat tire excuse me for my language but shitty car. We're not the most wealthy Kim kardahians walking around here. My mom works three jobs just to pay the bills, our power gets cut of every few months and we survive off of ramen noodles half of the time but I'm not complaining, I know people have worse. I open the door and it creaks loudly and flash a look at my mom that says "great sounds like Beethoven to the ears" because if you haven't noticed yet I'm kind of sarcastic, but, if you haven't noticed, then I'd like to confess to being sarcastic. While on the way there my mom again tries to make it seem like a great thing to come here, and I tell her I'm actually a little excited about it "lying" and it finally puts her to rest. We finally drive up to the.... Place. It's not much really it kind of looks like an old persons home. I'm not sure why it doesn't have roses and dandelions growing everywhere if they have group meeting's for different people with different problems it should be a little, I don't know happier? Anyway me and my mom walk up to the two glass doors and walk in and I can feel my nerves kicking in and wish I had a couple Xanax about now but, mom said that wasn't ever happening again, long story. We walk up to the sheet of paper that says "room 18: teens" I guess that teens was the only word that they could find instead of saying: depressed weird teenagers that are sadly unenthusiastic about every...damn...thing" but teens was all. Finally we are at the door of teens and by then my heart is racing and I actually feel like I'm going to break down but I've had to many of those moments and am not going to do that now not now. The door opens and dear God. Teens was not the right word to describe these people. The words to describe them were, sad, lonely, and need to lay of the black hair dye. There were four people sitting in a circle around a taped on huge sunflower on the floor, well there's the flower I was looking for. There was this tall woman, blonde bob on her head, which kind of was oddly angled, just by first glance you can tell she's one of those go happy campers everyone avoids at the grocery store. She walks up to us and-
"WELL HOW ARE YOU DOING" she says so damn loud. "I AM MISS KATHERINE AND IM THE COUNSELOR HERE IN TEENS, YOU MUST BE JEREMIAH, ITS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU!" She holds out her hand that is painted with bright yellow fingernail polish. I shake her hand and she pulls so hard I thought she was about to take my arm off and run and try to use it as a whisk for her cupcake making.
"Well how about you go sit over in that empty seat next to Jean" I look over and see a bigger sized blonde girl that guess what? Looks sad. I look at my mom and give her a look that says "really?" And just walk to the chair and plop down and see my mom talk to mrs. Doodle and after a few seconds waves and walks out. Mrs dandelion walks over and brings her high screeching voice out and-
"Well Jeremiah how are you?" She really is asking me this? I wanted to say so badly, "like dog shit today honey how bout you?" But held my tongue and said the usual "fine" what a lie, fine. She sits in her chair and looks at me and says-
"Well thats great! We're so happy to have a new member here. Now, there is this little bitty thing we do when we get a new arrival" - dear god
"We all go around and introduce ourselves and tell why we are her, now who wants to start?" She asks and dead silence hits the room. The girl Jean I'm sitting by raises her hand just a little.
"Great!" Mrs happy camper Katherine screams. "Go ahead." The girl looks the least sad out of the rest but still sad and starts-
"Hello I'm Jean Louis and I suffer from an eating disorder along with depression, and I have an addiction to pain killers." I'm thinking "honey i feel your pain"
- "I've been coming to this meeting for six months now" and she stops and is done, she really carries no emotion.. The one next to her looks and realizes it's his turn, he looks very very skinny, and is wearing a leather jacket and has short spiked up hair, he clears his throat and starts to speak-
"Hey what's up I'm Jackson Wilcox and I've got an eating disorder, and I'm still an alcoholic, surprise surprise huh? I also suffer from depression, anxiety and bipolar depression. Yep that's about all" he seems to be like me I guess, kind of nonchalant about everything just like a "yep I'm dying here" kind of person. I know the feeling buddy. The person next to him is a girl, looking sort of the same, long black hair, black long sleeves, I know what those are for, skinny jeans, black of course, black converse, hey this girl knows my style.
"Hey, um I'm John lakinson and um I suffer from self harm, severe depression, and um anxiety and a whole lot of other stuff" she seems like the most sad I'd have to say, her voice is so quiet it's like you just want to hug this little girl. The next girl looks just as normal as anyone else. She's a brunette, short sleeves, white short shorts, just ok.
"Hey I'm kay Neely and I suffer from depression and anxiety" yep short and sweet as I would've expected.
Damn it's my turn, I hate speaking about my problems, I'm not one that asks for attention and literally hates telling everyone "I'm just kind of messed up" I sit up and take a deep breath and well-
"Hey, I'm Jeremiah hemmingway and I suffer from, well I wouldn't say suffer you know I'm not like dying but yeh I suffer from depression of course, anxiety, self harm, I have body dysmorphia, I am addicted to pain killers and muscle relaxers, I'm an alcoholic, and I'm suicidal"
They just look at me, they just look.
