Teenage Wasteland {hood a.u.}

Chapter 8- Therapy

Friday, July 12th, 2013

Dear Dallas,

Everyone wants to be different, right? No one wants to be the same. Everyone would rather be original, right? Wrong.

Everyone wants to be normal. But, what is normal you may ask? I don’t know anymore. Society has labeled people with mental illnesses as ‘normal’. If that’s normal, then I’d rather be different.

I’ve spent most of my life trying to be ‘normal’, that is until I got to middle school. You see, there that is when I found out that being mentally insane is ‘cool’. Being mentally ill needs to stop being romanticised. It’s not cool. It’s not fun. It’s like mentally beating yourself up 24/7.

Everyone (not everyone but most people) need to know that there’s something wrong with them. They need to know that it’s not just them. That they’re not insane. Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t, who knows.

You see, people will make up things so they won’t think that they are insane. Maybe it’s for other people, maybe it’s just for them. I don’t know.

Some people who are diagnosed with depression go through denial, there has to be something else with them. Not something medical, maybe more physical.

There are people in this world who know there is something wrong, but won’t believe it. People like me. I have come to face the facts, Dallas. I have mental illnesses. I don’t want to know what they are, just yet. I know I have them. There IS something wrong with me. But, that’s okay. It’s okay.

There’s something wrong with everyone. Not everybody’s perfect. Not everybody’s sane. Some, may be more sane than others, some not.

I’m sorry if this seems like a rant. It kind of was, I just needed some way to clarify this into my mind. And you’ve helped, thanks Dallas.

Love you,

Jay.

 

Sunday, July 14th, 2013

Dear Dallas,

Hi. I’m sorry that I’ve been shit at writing these lately. I’ve been ‘living my life’. I know that’s what you would want me to do.

The All Time Low concert is coming up, and I’m really excited. It’s in about 2 weeks I think, the end of July.

So, I think I’m moving in with Rae. Her parents want to actually be my legal guardians, it’s weird. It’s weird to feel wanted.

Wanted. “To desire greatly; wish for”. Wanted.

It’s nice, maybe this is my chance to be ‘normal’. Not society’s normal. My normal. My definition of normal. When I figure out what the definition to that is, I’ll be sure to tell you.

I’ve always been the bookworm out of us, no offense. I was always the one telling you definitions, helping you with your homework, etc.

Calum is taking me out on a date tonight, I hope he’s wearing his lip ring. Dear god, I sound so creepy. But, I really hope he does. He’s sweet, once you get past his ‘bad boy’ exterior. I think you guys would’ve been friends.

He kind of reminds me of you. He’s kind, he cares about others. He would put someone else’s feelings in front of his own. We’ve gone on a couple of dates, I guess you could call them. He hasn’t specified what they are. So, I’m just going to call them dates.

Is there really a such thing as love at first sight? Or even love? Do I believe in either of them? That’s the real question. I think i believe in love, but I’m not quite sure. I don’t believe in fairy tale endings. Those happen to nobody. The people who may look the happiest, don’t have fairy tale endings. They may look happy, but there’s obviously something wrong. Nothing can be perfect.

I believe that you can fall in love with someone, but I also believe that you can fall out of love. I believe that you can fall in love with someone’s looks, by love at first sight. Yes, you may be attracted to them, but that doesn’t mean that you are attracted to their personality. Am I making any sense?

I think I’m attracted to Calum both ways. His looks, oh god his looks, he’s hot. Sorry I know you don’t want my boy drama, but you have to see this guy. He has such a squishy face, but at the same time he has such defined cheekbones. He has abs, but yet he doesn’t. I don’t know.

He has those chocolate brown eyes, that I could just stare into for forever, I feel myself getting lost into them whenever he talks. I know, I sound mushy right now. But please bare with me.

He’s extremely thoughtful, he thinks of the best kind of dates. Like picnics on the beach, carnivals, movies, and just taking me to old diners. I know, it’s cheesy, but it’s a good kind of cheesy.

I’ve been thinking that maybe there is something wrong with him, but I know for sure that there is definitely something wrong with him. I don’t know maybe if he has some family issues or whatever, but I want to find out.

I know, I know. Trying to figure out both of us at the same time may be hard, but I am going to do it. I can do it.

I’ve gone my whole life thinking that I can’t. But, I know that I can. My therapist said that I have to stop second guessing myself.

Yes, I have got new medication. It’s nice, it’s relaxing. I’m not saying that I’m better, because I’m not. I can’t promise you that I’m better. But I can’t promise you that I’m the same.

You always knew that there was wrong with me. I know you knew, that’s why you made me promise that I’d stay strong, right? It wasn’t for me. It was for you, you wanted to be reassured that you could leave me here, and that I’d be fine.

Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell mom and dad? You knew something was wrong with me.

I’ve been thinking a lot, for my own good, I don’t know. But, I’ve been thinking. There’s no way that you didn’t know that there was something wrong with me. But, how did I not know? Maybe I did know, maybe I just didn’t want to face it. That’s what my therapist says.

How long have I been this fucked up? It’s a simple question. I just want a simple answer.

~Jasey.