Sometimes I think I shouldn't be left alone. Other times I can't wait to be rid of these people. I guess it all depends on the contents of the day.
Like what they served for breakfast.
"Man, that orange sausage again?" Someone would say.
"Yeah, and yesterday's eggs."
"Ah well, at least the banana is fresh."
"Yeah, but you better give it to Betsy, she likes bananas."
Short one banana later, I'd pick at the eggs for our allotted thirty minutes and throw the meal away. They didn't like it when I didn't eat my meals, but they didn't like a lot of things.
I really couldn't stand any of them. They made my skin crawl, and I couldn't bare the thought to be without them. The nurse who stabbed me in the arm in the middle of each night. The tech and how she watches, making me stand there, before her, as I swallow the rainbow assortment of pills she gives me. The smelly kid that sits alone and only plays puzzles. The girl with the scars that looked like mine.
I came to rely on all of them. They had become a part of my daily life, my routine. They had become a part of me. All of them, whether I wanted them to or not.
I hated that part of me. I hated everything about it. I hated myself, naturally everything that made me what I was. It was why I wanted to be left alone. It made me need them even more, driving me to hate myself further.
It was one giant interrelated circle of self loathing and negativity, and it was the only thing keeping me alive. I couldn't be self destructive because they were always watching, always there, a burning lifeline of insanity.
And then they kicked me out.
Grateful
8 months ago