Odd Girl Out

Medicine and hallucinations

I sat in the circle and waited patiently for it to be my turn to speak. There was this stupid object being passed called the "talking stick". The young lady in charge of this whole shin-dig said it was for free expression and that when you hold it, you were allowed in that moment to express your emotions freely and without judgement, if you didn't have the talking stick you understood to be quiet and listen to whom-ever was holding the "talking stick".

The talking stick was currently being held by a young lady who looked no younger than seventeen. She had beautiful brown skin scarred with markings of cutting and abuse of lethal drugs. The young lady had curly short dark brown hair, she had it tied up in an Minnie Mouse like bow with clear lip-gloss.

Although beautiful from an outside appearance, she spoke with such disdain and heartache, I couldn't help but feel her pain. From her story, she expressed being bullied in school. People made fun of her weight and her smile, I took her outer appearance in and took mental note of how ignorant teenagers can be, she was no where near fat and from the five seconds I saw it , she had a beautiful smile. I made a mental note to speak with her outside of the circle. The young  lady had tried to kill herself while her parents were away on vacation. She tried to take an overdose of painkillers but failed to remember she invited her boyfriend over to help her with her homework and he found her laying in her bedroom, trying to scarf down more pills.

Soon, there-after it was my turn to hold this abomination called the "talking stick". I didn't care to share my story but it was apart of receiving help and finding closure so I just went along with it.

"Hello my name is Stacy and I have been here for a little over seven years".  I don't know why I was so nervous considering the fact I've recited this line over a million times. I tell them my name and why I'm here and what I plan on doing to fix it. " I was involved in a car accident seven years ago. I lost the love of my life during the accident, he died immediately after our car was hit by an eighteen wheeler". Here comes the water works, I had practically become an actress with an Oscar award, I knew very well how to make myself cry so people can become sympathetic and feel sorry for me. I had very well cried real tears for the first three years my time here and now I was all cried out.

They all listened intently as the lady responsible for this whole ordeal handed me a box of tissue. I didn't bother grabbing one because I didn't care too. I had been through this same routine a dozen times , the telling of some sad story that deserves remorse; the story behind my face and people realizing how tragic my life is; the pass over of a box of tissue; the whole group tells how they plan on changing their tragic outcome and we all hug and go back to our rooms.

My room was very dark and cold, we weren't allowed to have windows but I managed to bargain a raggedy brown desk from the previous occupant. The desk alone gave the room a little more happiness than I gave credit for.