for him. | Chandler Riggs Gay |

one.

It's been exactly 247 days since I got institutionalized. It's been okay, I guess, I'm just really lonely and in desperate need of some friends. I would try to make some here but everyone is mentally ill and either doesn't trust anyone, or simply doesn't wanna communicate. I don't even know why they simply wouldn't want to because I've only been here for less than a year and I feel like I haven't had social contact with anybody in decades where as some people have been here for 19 years and haven't said one word.

I'm seeing it as being a sheltered mental patient but maybe they're just brainwashed, I can understand that seeing as though the routine is a bit bland and tiring. Wake up, medication, breakfast, showers, half an hour in a fenced court, second dose of medication, lunch, lounging, last dose of medication, supper, lockdown, and lastly, bedtime. It's very thought ahead and exhausting. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night just bawling my eyes out because I hate this place so much. As the tears roll down my face one after the other, I just stare at the small window wishing, just wishing, I could be a bird.

I would want to be a bird because they're limitless, and they can just get up and soar through the sky with no problem at all- except rain, rain might be a big problem. I've always wanted to know what it would be like to be up in the clouds, spreading my wings while I look down at the world. In an alternate universe, I'd like to think that I would be one- just imagine being free and not stuck in here. Sometimes, I wonder why in the world I was given this fate, but then I remember;

"The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings" - J.M. Barrie, The Little White Bird

I feel like putting me in here was the easy way out for my parents. I'm stuck in here barely being able to talk to my aide because either I'm doped up on medication or simply because I'm an anxiety mess. They're supposed to help me here but everything they do is far from okay. My mom and dad barely even read about this place before sticking me in here, they got an okay from my doctor and decided it was fine to send me away. They don't know the danger I'm in every single day because visiting me isn't a priority since Grayson isn't messed up like me and is now the star child.

Grayson is my younger brother. He seems all innocent and harmless where in reality there was actually an exhilarating pain of jealously running through his bones when they had to pay more attention to me because I got the part of Carl on The Walking Dead. I was getting paid and I was out of the house every now and then so that was okay with them- but now that i'm not bringing in income for them because I was killed off, it's like I never even existed in the first place.

While I was still on the show, my anxiety and depression got worse and worse by the minute but I tried brushing it off by telling myself it was celebrity stress. When I was killed off in the finale of Season 6, I began getting jittery and emotional by just the tiniest things. Stuttering took over my speech and my palms were constantly sweating, not to mention the self-harming that came with it. People would tease me in school because of the show and would never let me live it down. It literally got so bad that I had to bring my blade in my backpack with me. I didn't want to continue going but my parents said they wouldn't let me do homeschooling, so I was forced to go and suffer the consequences of their actions.

I'm not blaming them for what happened to me, well no, actually I am. I understand I have a few mental illnesses, but some of them are caused by my mom and dad. Instead of helping me, they literally sent me here right after. How is that okay? Is it legal? You're supposed to go through counseling, medication, breathing exercises, maybe even some yoga. Quite honestly, I don't even know why you wouldn't wanna help your son- he's struggling, he's in pain, and all you do is institutionalize him? Georgia sucks, and the more I think about how I got screwed over- the more I want to cry and dig my head into a ditch.