She Doesn't Care . (Being Edited)

The Same White . ; Chapter Twenty-One .

Well, hello there lovelies. First off, let me say I’m terribly sorry about not uploading as often as I use to, and or should. But its summer, you’re gonna have to deal. Besides, I’ve had major writing block, and I have no inspiration lately. But that’s no excuse, I know, I should have uploaded. Apologizes m’dears.

On the other hand- So, I told ya’ll how I’m co-writing a book right? (; Well, it’s gonna be published soon! The first part, Thanatos: It’s Only the Beginning should be posted within a week, I’m assuming. It’ll be on a joint account, called SarahJMaddieJ , and it’d be super-duper appreciated if you’d go and fan that account . (: Which is right up thur . ^

By the next time I post, there will more than likely be a summary to it, for anyone that’s interested. (:

Super Fucking Important; This . Is . The . End . This book is over. Yes, over. The next chapter will be the last chapter, with a scene at the end . I might throw in a special chapter before the next chapter, but I don’t know. I’m not inspired to finish this, honestly.

Also, nobody likes commenting or voting anymore. Why? No clue. I can see that you guys read it, so why don’t you just click a button, or tell me what you think? It’s not hard at all, really. And it means a superfuckingduperlot to me. Anyway.

I’m gonna be starting a new story besides the co-written one I believe. I have a few ideas going through my head, I just have to decide on one. I’m thinking a short story. A horror/historical fiction one, actually.

But yes , here’s your long awaited chapter. I’m sorry it’s not longer.

Here you go, dolls ;

        Here’s about the time everything went bad. Well, it was already bad, so worse. I was at home, with a depressing family, and the only thing I had going was drugs. My ‘episodes’ were getting worse, and they were happening more and more. I was having trouble controlling my actions around people, and I was worried about acting out in front of anyone.

        The voices got worse; always taunting me, laughing at me, insulting me. They made me want to kill myself, made me want to die. They told me I was worthless, that I didn’t deserve life. I was having trouble defining the voices in my head, and the voices of actual people.

        Everyone has a self-conscious, which comments on what you think, and is always just in your head. But these voices, they were coming from my head, but they sounded so real. They sound like they’re being said to me, out loud. I couldn’t always tell the difference between people saying something to me, or my voices saying something to me. I just had to ignore everything I heard, for I never knew if it was real or not.

        Life was never easy for me, ever. But after this point, life never got easy, ever again.

        The inevitable happened, and I had an ‘episode’ in school. Needless to say, I was sent to a counselor, and later sent to this very same Mental Institute in the god damn middle of fucking nowhere. The fucking white walls, the white floors, the white uniforms, the white bed sheets; everything sterile and fucking white. Do you understand how horrible of a shade white is? It’s so bland, and it’s the only thing I see. Every single day.

        Every single day for over a year now, I’ve been staring at the same blank white walls, being treated by the same nurses in the same white uniforms, and had to deal with boring asshole psychiatrist, after psychiatrist. I've had to follow the same schedule. 

        Wake up, shower, take medication, breakfast, break, community meeting, current events, snack/menu planning, exercise, education, lunch , break, process group, snack, dual diagnosis recovery group, break, dual diagnosis workbook/journaling, visiting hours/leisure time, wrap-up group, break, snack, night medication, administered/free time. Nothing changes. It’s always the same boring shit, during the same boring time frame, in the same fucking boring white sterile rooms.

        I hate it more than I hate myself, honestly.