I Haven't Got A Problem, I Just Don't Eat.
Chapter Five
So after my very hilarious cancer joke, everyone pretty much hates me. apart from that Gloria, she's insisted that she be my main therapist seem as my original one couldn't help snide comments slip every few minutes. You know, the most annoying thing about Gloria is that she keeps insisting that I do 'need help' and it can only work when I accept that and accept the 'help'. This place is so fucked up.
Anyway, I realize that I'm gonna be stuck in here for a while if I don't get better, and this is when I realized that seem as I don't have anyone to talk to, which I don't seem as Gloria is the most unbearable person alive, I could go crazy in this place. So that's why I'm writing this journal, to stop me going insane. But I don't know what's gonna happen now that I've written how I got here and everything, this place is so goddamn boring. Seriously, nothing happens. Ever. The only thing that has been of any entertainment is pissing the councilors off, but that's kinda getting old now. It's always the same reaction. No one else can piss them off like I can though, everyone else just gets a 'talking to'. I think they just hate me after my cancer joke. Oh well, stupid fat fucks.
But you know what has got to be the most annoying thing in the history of annoying things? All the patients in here have actually given in, the anorexics are eating, the druggies are clean, the abusive calm. It's do freaking annoying to know that humanity has now been dragged down so low as to give up whenever it gets hard. I mean, it isn't even that hard, isolation can only last for four days at a time, it's a rule, and it isn't even that bad. All it is a a room with padded white walls, roof and floor and a bed. It gives you time to think, even if it does make you think you're in a mental institute.
I get put in there quite a lot, so I can think plenty. But I guess it does suck when you have to wear a nightie, are searched and have to be lead to the toilet every three hours. And the inspection totally sucks. Don't know what happens for everyone else but for us bulimics and anorexics we get weighed in, they go through the food we've been made to eat, how we feel about how far we've gone over that past week, all that shit. I've been in there there times, all except one held for the entire four hours, the second time I was in there I really couldn't be stuffed been rebellious so I ate the goddamn food then threw it all up in the toilets as soon as I could. Was only in there for half a day.
Another thing that makes this place such a hell whole is the visiting hours. Nobody has come to see me yet, no surprise there, but everyone else has had at least one person it seems like. What they do is shove all of the 52 of us out into the garden where they call the names of everyone who has got a visitor out and one by one they all disappear into the cafeteria, when the rest of us is stuck out there waiting, listening for our names they'll never come. When all the names have been called we're free to do whatever we want for that hour and a half. This happens three times a week. It's hell.
Now I would say that that is the most annoying thing about this place, but it isn't. The most annoying thing is that we get sent away to this fucking fuck-hole and still have to go to school. Four times a week, the ones that are still at the age to go to school, have to go sit in some cramped, retarded room and learn maths, English and science. It's so fucked up. Then there are optional classes for the ones who want them, no matter what age you are. Fuck knows why someone would volunteer to do some shit ass thing like that.
So that is pretty much my life at Greenvitch Clinic For The Unbalanced. It is so much like a prison sentence it's scary.
Anyway, I realize that I'm gonna be stuck in here for a while if I don't get better, and this is when I realized that seem as I don't have anyone to talk to, which I don't seem as Gloria is the most unbearable person alive, I could go crazy in this place. So that's why I'm writing this journal, to stop me going insane. But I don't know what's gonna happen now that I've written how I got here and everything, this place is so goddamn boring. Seriously, nothing happens. Ever. The only thing that has been of any entertainment is pissing the councilors off, but that's kinda getting old now. It's always the same reaction. No one else can piss them off like I can though, everyone else just gets a 'talking to'. I think they just hate me after my cancer joke. Oh well, stupid fat fucks.
But you know what has got to be the most annoying thing in the history of annoying things? All the patients in here have actually given in, the anorexics are eating, the druggies are clean, the abusive calm. It's do freaking annoying to know that humanity has now been dragged down so low as to give up whenever it gets hard. I mean, it isn't even that hard, isolation can only last for four days at a time, it's a rule, and it isn't even that bad. All it is a a room with padded white walls, roof and floor and a bed. It gives you time to think, even if it does make you think you're in a mental institute.
I get put in there quite a lot, so I can think plenty. But I guess it does suck when you have to wear a nightie, are searched and have to be lead to the toilet every three hours. And the inspection totally sucks. Don't know what happens for everyone else but for us bulimics and anorexics we get weighed in, they go through the food we've been made to eat, how we feel about how far we've gone over that past week, all that shit. I've been in there there times, all except one held for the entire four hours, the second time I was in there I really couldn't be stuffed been rebellious so I ate the goddamn food then threw it all up in the toilets as soon as I could. Was only in there for half a day.
Another thing that makes this place such a hell whole is the visiting hours. Nobody has come to see me yet, no surprise there, but everyone else has had at least one person it seems like. What they do is shove all of the 52 of us out into the garden where they call the names of everyone who has got a visitor out and one by one they all disappear into the cafeteria, when the rest of us is stuck out there waiting, listening for our names they'll never come. When all the names have been called we're free to do whatever we want for that hour and a half. This happens three times a week. It's hell.
Now I would say that that is the most annoying thing about this place, but it isn't. The most annoying thing is that we get sent away to this fucking fuck-hole and still have to go to school. Four times a week, the ones that are still at the age to go to school, have to go sit in some cramped, retarded room and learn maths, English and science. It's so fucked up. Then there are optional classes for the ones who want them, no matter what age you are. Fuck knows why someone would volunteer to do some shit ass thing like that.
So that is pretty much my life at Greenvitch Clinic For The Unbalanced. It is so much like a prison sentence it's scary.