1

921 23 11
                                    

I don't really know where i'm going to take this story so the beginning might be a little bumpy but please bare with me.

Thank you to those few that asked me to start. It's really difficult to do any of my work right now because of personal issues and I also don't have any drive to write. I hope this makes up for lost time. :)

I wrote this with people in mind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You get lonely.

Really lonely.

I don't get visitors,

Or phone calls,

Or even letters.

I guess i'm just too insignificant to receive any of it.

*~*

You would think if your youngest daughter was in a hospital you would try and see her as much as possible right?

Wrong.

It's almost like they don't care. They don't care about not knowing when she gets out. They don't care about the real reasons she's here. They don't care how she feels or what it's like for her. Because you see? It's just that easy.

They don't care.

If they didn't want a fucked up daughter they should have stopped at two. Two damn kids. One boy and one girl are all you need right? Why would you try and have another when you can't please both children in getting a baby brother or a baby sister. Now it's like they don't even have a sister anymore.

Maybe they should have stopped at two.

Two would have saved a lot of trouble. They wouldn't have had to pay for the medical bill when she fell out of the tree and broke her arm. They wouldn't have to worry about why she is locked in her bedroom all the time. If they even worried at all. And they sure as hell wouldn't have to pay for these hospital bills to keep her somewhere that won't ever help.

Well Happy Birthday to her I guess.

- Journal 14 6/1/14

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It's hard living here. Well it's not really that hard. It's just hard in the sense I can't leave and I can't do what I need to do. That's hard.

I wish they would let me go home. I don't get why I can't. They haven't even done anything to try and help me or make me stop. They just took everything remotely harmful away and expect that to fix it.

Well life doesn't work that way.

Every day after every meal someone walks me back to my room for lock up. It's a one hour period where our rooms and ourselves get thoroughly searched for anything harmful or suspicious looking. I get caught often. As we walk towards my room every day I see the hanging clip board on every door. Name, Age, Height, Weight, Reason for admittance, Possible exit date, Special treatment, Medications and Dosage, Watch crew, Etc... It makes me want to gag. They have us locked up like, well, mental patients.

I've memorized my board. And every time it changes I notice it.

Name: Emery A. Jones

Age: 16 - Today

Height: 5' 4½"

Weight: 106 Lbs

Reason for admittance: Self harm, Suicidal, Depression, Anxiety

Possible exit date: N/A

Special Treatment: Shower watch, Food watch

Medications and Dosage: Norpramin 50 mg, Desyrel - 100 mg

Watch crew: N/A

It's always changing too. That's the best part. A new drug, a new dosage, weight gain, weight loss (most prominent with me), more special treatment. It just never ends.

You could probably call me a lost cause like most people.

The thing is, i'm by far not the worst in here. Sure, i'm pretty damn bad, but not the worst. I once heard of a guy who sawed off his own legs he was so crazy. Who knows, that could be a lie. I'll never know.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You wake up to the smell of disinfectant. Everyday. It sucks. It makes you cringe and you never get used to it. It's almost the worst thing about this place. Almost.

My room is boring. Barely anything personal. I don't even have my own clothes. A few books cover the surface of my short wooden bedside table. J. K. Rowling The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe, Jonathan Maberry, Robyn Schneider, John Green. Only the greatest. I don't have any pictures or posters. We aren't allowed to have them. I don't even know why.

We have sweatpants without a drawstring, shoes, but the kind without laces, shirts, hoodies without the hood or the drawstring again, and no zipper sweaters. Because we might just hurt ourselves with it. Again, It sucks. You aren't a person in here. You can't be yourself and have a style. If you want a social life no one will have one with you.

You spend a lot of time thinking. You think about everything. I don't think of my family though. Or my friends. I probably don't even have any anymore. If I did they would see me. Really see me. I think about the sky and the overwhelming darkness. I think about my nightmares and the demons that closer than you think. But I usually think about death. Not always my own, but not always others. It's easy to let my mind wander when I lay awake in my bed at 7:48am waiting for the nurses to come and escort me to breakfast like every morning.

If you think about it, you get a lot of alone time. You get 'free time' but you have to spend it in the common room with the other inpatients. During alone time I can do almost anything I want. I've earned it for being here almost 2 months. I usually sit in my room and read. If i'm lucky the nurses will leave me alone to give me some space.

Alone time and free time are gratefully two different times for me. I have free time after breakfast and after dinner, but I have alone time after lunch.

They watch you during free time. They watch you like hawks. It's like we're going to break out in a riot or something. They treat us like prisoners. We can barely ever go outside. We're on the 8th floor. The Teens Mental Health Ward. Original right? I personally am not allowed to open my window. I guess i'm going to jump out. Not being able to feel the sun on your skin or the wind in your hair is hard. This place sucks.

Remember only code blues have this treatment. Sucks, I know. As long as they know one thing in here.

I'm not waving, I'm drowning.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Done?

I hope you like it! that was actually a lot of work haha i'm so bad at this i just wanted to give up halfway through. you know how long it took me to figure out what drugs i wanted her to take and how long it took me to actually find drugs for her problems? three days. never again please.

not a lot but a little information about Emery A. Jones who i think is my best character yet. You will love where i take her if youre up for the journey.

happy reading!

xT.Bx

Greetings from Hope Mental HospitalWhere stories live. Discover now