Ginger & Bloo

August 23

August 23 

The room reeked with the smell of tears and desperations of all the previous 16 year old girls that had stayed in this room before me. The walls were a shade of cream that originally was supposedly white and the bed creaked with age. Discomforting for most people to stay here indeed, but peculiar as I was, I found it quite pleasing. The only displeasure was the bed across from mine, the idea of someone partnering with me in this room made my body cringe. Strange isn't it that I don't find the compelling idea of affection or the thought of human interaction appealing at all. At age 16, I, Eleanor Bloo, had learned something that most people learn at age 30 that humans are disgusting arrogant creatures and I am not excluded from that definition. Depressing isn't it, well what would you expect from a girl who is proudly diagnosed with that amazing illness, depression with a side of OCD just to spice up more of my life, that was sarcasm. The typical life of Eleanor consisted of overly analyzing idiotic things and countlessly checking and counting everything I do. On average I take 5,000 steps, knowingly under the recommended steps of 10,000.  I fear the thought of social events and tend to find comfort in the idea of everything being meaningless. Basically I am a typical angsty teen in Water Valley Academy, a prestigious boarding school that most parents would die if their kids were ever accepted. Like those parents, I would die... just die, figuratively, if I went to that boring named school, wait I am. Ooh there goes my depression again.