Status: Work in progress. Updated sporadically. Don't expect fast updates.
Mad Like Me
April 11
Still down in the dumps. But maybe today will be better. Doubt it. Luna and Willow had to lift me out of bed and carry me on a sheet to Group. I wouldn’t move. I couldn’t.
A few people stared as I was carried into the room. It didn’t bother me. I was used to stares. Besides, they’d probably seen worse.
Luna and Willow managed to get me into a chair. I pulled the sheet tight around my body, like a cotton cocoon. Or a straitjacket.
They sat one on either side of me. Luna put a protective arm around my shoulder. I didn’t fight it. Across the circle, Jay waved to get my attention. As if it wasn’t already on him, heh.
“It’s that bad?” he mouthed. We were supposed to be listening to the lecture.
I nodded, closed my eyes. I fought the salty tears forming in the back of my vision by blinking rapidly. They probably thought I was having a seizure or something.
“Now does anyone have any questions about alternative treatment methods?” asked the doctor.
One of the boys – I think his name was Jamie – raised his hand.
“I read that those herbal pills you talked about were from China. Doesn’t that mean there’s poison and shit in there?”
“No, Jamie, our pills all come from highly trusted companies. You don’t have to worry. Were you considering that?”
“No. I don’t trust China. Communists, y’know?”
I tuned out of the conversation. This didn’t apply to me. No, I was too busy contemplating whether there was anything in this room I could kill myself with, if it came to that. Maybe if I stood on a stool and dove headfirst into the tiled floor. But that was no guarantee.
When Group was over, I headed back to my room. I wasn’t hungry. You know how if you go too long without eating, your stomach actually rejects food? That’s how this felt. I nearly vomited just thinking about the cafeteria.
There was a knock on the door. I stayed silent, curled up in my sheet cocoon. I didn’t want company. But surely enough, the door creaked open.
“Cat? Are you in here?”
I rolled over a bit, peeking one eye out through a hole in my homemade straitjacket.
“I hear you moving,” said Jay. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really grateful that you gave me someone to talk to, and that I’m always open if you need me. And that I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to anybody right now. But please, give yourself a chance, like you convinced me to.” I heard him step out and close the door.
Why didn’t I say anything? God only knows. I once read this book – It’s Kind of a Funny Story. Depressed me so much. But I remember one line from it that totally applied right now. It’s hard to talk when you want to kill yourself.
A few people stared as I was carried into the room. It didn’t bother me. I was used to stares. Besides, they’d probably seen worse.
Luna and Willow managed to get me into a chair. I pulled the sheet tight around my body, like a cotton cocoon. Or a straitjacket.
They sat one on either side of me. Luna put a protective arm around my shoulder. I didn’t fight it. Across the circle, Jay waved to get my attention. As if it wasn’t already on him, heh.
“It’s that bad?” he mouthed. We were supposed to be listening to the lecture.
I nodded, closed my eyes. I fought the salty tears forming in the back of my vision by blinking rapidly. They probably thought I was having a seizure or something.
“Now does anyone have any questions about alternative treatment methods?” asked the doctor.
One of the boys – I think his name was Jamie – raised his hand.
“I read that those herbal pills you talked about were from China. Doesn’t that mean there’s poison and shit in there?”
“No, Jamie, our pills all come from highly trusted companies. You don’t have to worry. Were you considering that?”
“No. I don’t trust China. Communists, y’know?”
I tuned out of the conversation. This didn’t apply to me. No, I was too busy contemplating whether there was anything in this room I could kill myself with, if it came to that. Maybe if I stood on a stool and dove headfirst into the tiled floor. But that was no guarantee.
When Group was over, I headed back to my room. I wasn’t hungry. You know how if you go too long without eating, your stomach actually rejects food? That’s how this felt. I nearly vomited just thinking about the cafeteria.
There was a knock on the door. I stayed silent, curled up in my sheet cocoon. I didn’t want company. But surely enough, the door creaked open.
“Cat? Are you in here?”
I rolled over a bit, peeking one eye out through a hole in my homemade straitjacket.
“I hear you moving,” said Jay. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m really grateful that you gave me someone to talk to, and that I’m always open if you need me. And that I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to anybody right now. But please, give yourself a chance, like you convinced me to.” I heard him step out and close the door.
Why didn’t I say anything? God only knows. I once read this book – It’s Kind of a Funny Story. Depressed me so much. But I remember one line from it that totally applied right now. It’s hard to talk when you want to kill yourself.