Why so serious?

(Chapter 1) December 23, 2009

My dearest you-

My therapist said that I am hiding myself by not talking to someone. She said I should write if I can't say. So, I thought the best person to tell my self is you- the one who listens. I'm sorry if I'm not that interesting at first. I haven't really done anything like this before.

I never had anyone to talk to, or I never had the courage to write something realistic about my tragedy. So far, this is the most I've been able to produce in writing!

She said to think of this as talking to a friend. I've had hundreds of friends, but never one to be able to open up to without being accused as insane or "being full of bull". I'm popular, yes. I'm experienced, yes. Am I sane? Well, I wouldn't have a fricken psychiatrist if I wasn't would I?

I'll get on with my life. I've been at Shorebrink University that's three-thousand miles away from Ridgewater for a shy off of two months, and I can already see the four years of my future being filled with nightless sleeps and poetic vomiting from late night frat parties. I majored in psychiatry and minored in dance. So far, I love what I chose to do.

The psychology program and people's brain maps have always fascinated me. The thought of swimming in another's mind; that is the true horror of peace. If anyone tried to swim in mine, like my psychologist is trying to do, they'd drown from the first toe dipped in my whirlpool of a mental disorder. I call it the truth of my past. They call it all the -ias rolled up in a pretty package tied with a bit of insomnia.

Schitz, anorexia, bipolar, ptsd without going to war(can you imagine), and asphyxiophilia have tortured me for eleven years. They're my best friends, but I'd like better ones. I'm not a psycho trying to take advantage of others kindness, but a girl with a past and a present, but no future...until now.

I plan to go through college as normally as possible. I have thousands of meds, therapists, meetings, groups, etc. to help "stable my shortcomings" or some other shit they try to pry down my throat. I don't really need any of it. I got through my childhood; that's all the therapy I need.

Back to college, my first month was really the cherry on top of a great summer. As I walked onto the stand with my diploma about to shake my principals hand, as I gazed amongst the many faces that had lusted after me through high school, as I looked down upon the girls I had so longingly wanted to prove wrong, I imagined the future as a door being opened just for my eyes.

I could only look onto the horizon, seeking for the sign of change. Change. The very word clogs your toungue as you say it. Your lips part and you can't help but smile as you fulfill the word fully.

As the summer nights lived, and the time surpassed the world of my graduating class and I, I resurfaced my inner demons and held them close as I spent my time with my boyfriend, Taren, diving into waterfalls on hidden beaches and stealing each other's mouths as we sat in his jeep listening to the wind graze the open trees; the only substance of light was the moon and the fire in our hearts bursting as we forgot the near future of college and slipping away from each other.

When the time did come, Taren and I spent our last night together. We talked as if one of us were dying the next day. It, at least, felt as if one of us were. We knew we weren't going to see each other for a long time, and as we confirmed our thoughts, we decided to end our troubled hearts and drift away forever speaking goodbye and never more seeing each other in the eyes of love.

As I left my aunt crying with happiness for my future years in college, I swore to myself I will make her proud. She has done nothing but love me when I needed it most. If it weren't for her, I would have been dead for a good half decade by now.

Now, to be settled in with a new opportunity of life, I will only look towards the future, not able to reconcile with the demons of my mind and past, mingling to the point of insanity. I will never go insane again. That was only one time. Trust me.

Tomorrow is a new day. Next week is a new life. Next year is a new world. How I can't wait for the mystery of tomorrow. Until next time!

- Mandy J.

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Authors Note:

If you didn't read the prologue before reading this chapter, you will be lost for the entire story! Comment and share for more! Hopefully get a chapter in during spring break. Hope you like the story so far!

-Author
A.R.