Stitches
I feel like I was in the hospital for a year or three. Like the people who get locked up for years and come out not knowing current events or what to do with themselves.
It’s just hard to readjust. It feels like I truly lived there for a while and the kids were just growing on me like family. I turn into a different person with every room I walk into, but there, there was only one room I could be in. It became routine and I subconsciously accepted it because I just get attached to things so quickly. I left pieces of me behind with every drawing and just don’t like to walk out of a room and be forgotten. No one will ever really know what the medication does to their everyday life in there because it’s not their everyday life. It’s a temporary bubble and after a while you don’t even feel trapped. You get so used to it that you forget that you can’t leave, you start to think you’re staying there because you like it and that’s why when you do leave…I miss it.
Original Slash or Gay Fiction
It’s just hard to readjust. It feels like I truly lived there for a while and the kids were just growing on me like family. I turn into a different person with every room I walk into, but there, there was only one room I could be in. It became routine and I subconsciously accepted it because I just get attached to things so quickly. I left pieces of me behind with every drawing and just don’t like to walk out of a room and be forgotten. No one will ever really know what the medication does to their everyday life in there because it’s not their everyday life. It’s a temporary bubble and after a while you don’t even feel trapped. You get so used to it that you forget that you can’t leave, you start to think you’re staying there because you like it and that’s why when you do leave…I miss it.
Original Slash or Gay Fiction