So here I am in my drab room. The nights are the worst. I’m forced to sleep on this tiny bed with one measly pillow. I can barely sleep at night. This room feels so cold and my covers are so thin. I miss my own bed. I have a roommate and her name is Veronica. She is here because she tried to kill herself. Apparently she overdosed on 3000 milligrams of Lunesta. Her fiancé cheated on her with her best friend. When she confronted him about it he admitted it and told her that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. She’s a couple of years older than me and we have become friends. She shares her stories about her now ex-fiancé Kevin, and I share my stories about Simon and my messed up parents. Every morning around 7am the techs bang on everybody’s door to wake them up for breakfast. Then we have to line up against the wall like we’re in kindergarten to go to the cafeteria. The other day a girl stepped out of line and started going crazy. She was yelling and screaming about the voices in her head. They had to sedate her. Today I had dry toast and a cup of watery coffee for breakfast. I really miss Starbucks. Dr. Wilson referred me to a psychiatrist name Dr. Shaw. I meet with him every day after breakfast. Today he asked me the usual questions: do you feel like cutting yourself, are you sleeping well, how are you feeling. I told him that it’s really cold in my room at night. He said he would talk to them about giving me extra covers. I wonder how Marisa is doing, or who Marisa is doing haha. I’m not allowed to have a cell phone in my room and we could only use the phones here for 15 minutes at a time. Visitation is at 5pm every day. My parents are coming to visit me today. This should be interesting.
I don’t know what I’m going to do about Simon. He cornered me in the hall at school the other day and shoved the teddy bear I gave him back in my face. He even ripped the letter I wrote him and threw the pieces at me. He said he doesn’t want anything to do with me and called me a psycho bitch. I have been nothing but patient with him. All I want is for us to be together, but he’s making that very difficult. I was so angry that I marched straight to the athletic centre and grabbed a baseball bat from storage. I went out into the parking lot and smashed the windows in his car. I went back into the school and smashed in his locker. I tossed the bat to the floor and ran into the girls’ bathroom and locked myself in one of the stalls. I scooped a razor blade out of my bag and cut myself. What a rush. I felt a high that I never felt before. This is all Simon’s fault. If he would just accept that fact that we’re meant to be together instead of pushing me away, things could have gone differently. When I stepped out of the stall to clean the blood off my arm a girl entered the bathroom and there were two teachers with her. They saw what I did. If that wasn’t bad enough, I was standing there with a bloody arm and a razor blade in my hand. The teachers escorted me to the office. They ended up calling my parents.
During therapy we talked about what happened. My parents were yelling at each other and blaming each other for my mental state. Dr. Wilson suggested that they admit me into Hessner Mental Institution. For the first time in a long time they agreed on something.
My parents found out that I have been cutting myself. We were at our usual therapy session and my mother was sitting beside me on the couch. I pulled up my sleeve just a little bit to scratch an itch on my lower arm and she noticed the lacerations. She asked me what they were from and I told her that one of my friends had a cat and it scratched me. She didn’t look convinced and neither did my dad or the therapist. Dr. Wilson started focusing on me and what would cause me to cut myself. I started to get angry that they weren’t focusing on the reason that we were all there in the first place. My mom and dad are headed for divorce and they’re just dragging me through all of their crap. Of course I cut myself! How else am I going to stay sane in my house? I kept trying to change the subject and pull down my sleeve, but my dad pulled it up and both of my parents started to cry. This was the first time that anybody has seen my scars of pain. Dr. Wilson suggested that my parents send me to a mental institution. I begged my parents not to send me there. Then I admitted to them that I have cut myself, but I don’t anymore (even though that’s a lie) and that I’m fine. It took a lot of begging and pleading to talk my parents out of sending me to a mental institution.
Simon is still dodging me at school, so the other day I hid behind the bleachers and watched him during soccer practice. Afterwards I followed him home and left a teddy bear with a letter on his doorstep. Eventually, he’ll realize that we’re meant to be together.
Ever since I told Simon about the letter he’s been distant. Every time I walk past him in the hall and wave he gives me a fake smile and keeps walking. I thought telling him about the letter would bring us closer together, but it’s actually done the opposite. I have to get him to talk to me. I left him like a gazillion text messages and he hasn’t responded to any of them. I’m starting to go crazy. I can’t eat and if I don’t cut myself I can’t sleep. I’m thinking of going to his house.
Now that Marisa knows about Simon she won’t shut up about him. She’s always teasing me about him. I told her about the letter that I wrote him and she laughed at me. Marisa would never write a guy she likes a letter. She would never chase anybody. She never had to because they always chased her. Part of me resented her for that. I hated the fact that she never had to try hard to get a guy to pay attention to her. That’s why I didn’t tell her about the texts I sent him. I know if I did I would never hear the end of it.
My mom came in my room last night to talk about things. I thought she was going to tell me that her and my dad are getting a divorce, but that wasn’t the case. She did ask me how I felt about therapy. I knew that was coming, so I just told her what she wanted to hear. I told her that I was feeling better and that Dr. Wilson was really helping me, but really he wasn’t. With my parents still fighting and Simon ignoring me I’m feeling more lost than ever.
I am very distraught. Simon didn’t ask me to the winter formal! I mean, he’s practically my boyfriend, so I don’t know why he didn’t ask me! I was looking forward to going with him. I begged my mom to buy me a new dress and I even got my hair done. At first I thought that maybe he didn’t ask me at school because he was going to surprise me. I thought he was going to show up at my front door with a corsage and sweep me off my feet. Well, Simon ended up going with that slut Stacy Carter. I almost lost it. At that moment all I wanted to do was cut my skin so I would feel better, but now I know this isn’t his fault. Clearly he doesn’t understand that we’re meant to be together, so I have to show him. This is just a minor setback.
Therapy isn’t going any better. Dr. Wilson is trying to get me to open up, but I’m not ready to do that yet. He keeps asking me how I would feel if my parents split up. I mean, obviously I don’t want that to happen because then I would have to choose who I want to live with. I would most likely live with my mom because I don’t want to leave Deerwood. All my friends are here. My life is here. I don’t know what I would do without Marisa. She’s been my rock through this whole thing with my parents. She’s my best friend and we usually tell each other everything, but she doesn’t know that I have been cutting myself. I guess I’m afraid that she’ll judge me. She also doesn’t know that I’m in love with Simon. I think deep down I’m afraid that he’ll like her more than me, and I can’t accept that.
This has been a crappy week because I was sick for most of it. I managed to get to school one day this week and now I have so much homework to catch up on. The good news is I ran into Simon in the hall after third period. We talked about the winter formal, which takes place next Saturday night. I know that he’s going to ask me to be his date. He’s going to look so good in his suit. I have to buy a dress!
So, we had our second therapy session with Dr. Wilson and it wasn’t any better than the first. My dad was late, so at first it was just the two of us. Nobody said anything. I swear the room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Then Dr. Wilson started asking me questions. He asked me about school and my relationships. I told him about my best friend Marisa and her obsession with meeting guys online. I also told him about my boyfriend Simon. I told him how happy we are together and about the winter formal. I really enjoyed talking about him. Just saying his name made me smile. Then my dad stormed in the room and apologized for being late. Apparently he was in a meeting, but my mother didn’t believe him. She accused him of being with another woman. My mother sat at one end of the couch, my dad sat at the other end and I sat in the middle. They started screaming at each other. I almost lost it. I wanted to cut myself. I dug my nails into my hand until I bled and they all noticed. My parents stopped yelling at each other and all of their attention was on me. I liked it.
I decided to write Simon a letter. I explained that we’re meant to be together and he should stay away from Stacy Carter. I told him that she doesn’t love him the way that I do, but I didn’t tell him that it was from me. Not yet, but I will when the time is right. I stuck it in his locker before first period and hid behind the corner to watch him open it. He smiled and looked around to see who it was from. A couple of his buddies walked up to him and they jokingly grabbed the letter from his hand. I’m so glad that I wrote the letter anonymously.
I think Marisa finally ditched that loser Stephen. They were supposed to hang out and once again he never showed up. I think she finally came to her senses and blocked him. She’s talking to another guy she met online. Apparently he’s in college and lives on campus. They’ve been chatting for a little while. Let’s see what happens with this one.
It’s been rough at home. My parents are still constantly fighting. Sometimes they fight about the dumbest things. Like yesterday, my mom asked my dad to pick up milk on his way home from work, but he forgot. He apologized and said he would go back out to get it, but she totally flipped out. It was like she was a different person all of a sudden. Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Then all hell broke loose. I tried to get my parents to calm down but they just told me to stay out of it. I couldn’t take the yelling anymore, so I ran up to my room and grabbed my razor blade from under my mattress and cut myself. As soon as the razor blade hit my skin it was instant relief.