Accept

The start of my life

Being alone at home can be highly dull, but this is for most teens with mental health and financial problems. Exiting my bed, I realized I had forgotten to attend my therapy session with Dr.Zhang.I don't enjoy attending sessions with Dr.Zhang, not that I don't like him. He is a great guy who supports me as an open-gender girl. He doesn't know I like girls, but I would rather keep this personal matter to myself. In each session, we discuss what I am dealing with and how adapting to my mental health can help me solve my way of enjoying life. At first, my mom and dad didn't sign me up for a therapist session.

Since the beginning of September, I might've provoked the school by sending a few emails to my school counselor, and they assumed that I had gone insane. I didn't know if my school counselor called the police on me or the principal, but I knew it remained a mystery. After this little incident, the police didn't handcuff me; thank god I wasn't handcuffed with rusty metal silver. Instead, they checked me up to a mental institute where I was supposed to they there for a while, but the rule for this hospital is that you'll get a seven-day stay. Then, you'll be discharged if you are not severely ill. I never enjoyed hospital food or the staff, but the people there dealing with a lot of mental health were kind to me but also crazy in a way that god had made them be. I thought I would be the only dyke girl in this hospital, but then I wasn't until I met a boy who was transgender with curly hair and a voice that sounded like a twelve-year-old girl.

The rest were straight, but I never liked talking to people who weren't expected, as the rest of society had creativity. My room had two beds and two shelves with writing all over the right side wall. There was even my bathroom, but the door had no lock switch. Even the windows were sealed tight that patients here weren't allowed to open, and yes, I see why it is impossible to open a window when you are about 20 feet above the ground, and the only way to escape this horror show is to jump. There was no TV for me to watch or phone aloud in this hospital. I knew that this nightmare was just the beginning. Alone in my room with the light switch off, I could see myself begging god to forgive my mistake and regret doing this type of shit hole in my last year of high school.

I usually don't cry, but this seems like the perfect time to feel emotional. This was supposed to be the year I got to have fun and enjoy myself, living the most remarkable event in my school. I don't make many friends, but I think I should make friends because they don't respect who you are or see that you're not too weird from the moment you stare at them on your first day in health class. I don't understand why this is punishing me if I cooperate with everything the authorities are recommending for me, but this makes me feel like I'm the bad guy and their sound guy when they know that they are punishing twelfth graders in high school spending the rest of her years in a mental institute with a bunch of crazy. Life is a bitch, but I know my life would not be the same without my older brother, who has supported me since covid-19 happened. I don't get it(sigh). I spent almost three years in high school trying to pass all my classes and making up for the mistakes I regret since my first year, and then all of a sudden, my chance of returning to school until graduation is a no. I didn't have three years in high school, so I couldn't attend my graduation ceremony with my teacher and counselor, who probably hated me just to be called an intruder or a threat. I accepted these consequences, but I know I can't look back at the past and what I had done to understand that my actions will always have effects. So now I have to spend some time thinking and understanding my mental while being trapped in the state while on probation. It's not like I will cause trouble now since I already graduated from that hellhole.