Open mind

I was sitting on my bed, staring into the mirror. Crisis management. That's what it was called. It was better for me to go there, I knew that. But it was so soon. First the doctor had said that it might take a while before she got me in there. I had been prepared for it. I would have a normal weekend with horse riding and after that I would go to that crisis management. I'd live there for six weeks to calm down; but mostly to be safe from myself.

I looked down at my left wrist. Fresh red lines covered my forearm. To be honest, I wasn't disgusted by them. Right now at least. Sometimes I wanted to vomit at the sight of my body. Sometimes I found those wounds pretty. I liked touching them and feeling that painful tingle. I didn't want to stop doing this to myself, but I knew I had to and that breaking out of the habit would make me feel better about myself. After all, I couldn't keep them hidden all my life. I was already tired of the questions of what happened when I was wearing a bandage.

I just hoped that it would be like the doctor said. That I could do my own things and that the caretakers were only there to watch you. It would be good for me to leave my home for a while; live my life just the same, but without the pressure of people I knew.

'Lotus! Are you coming for dinner?' I let out a deep sigh. 'Yes!' I yelled back at my mom. I wasn't hungry at all actually. With slow steps I walked downstairs. My last dinner at home. I should at least eat something in case the food there was terrible.