Mental..

pexels-photo-270890

It’s been three weeks and I’ve lost my mind, well according to them I never had one to begin with. Why else would I be in a psychiatric facility?
I watch as my roommate drags his fingernails along the walls, the walls I wouldn’t say are as white as snow, no, the walls are pale, the color her skin turned when she starved herself for three days straight because she thought she was “fat”. Pale, the color his body was glowing in when he was constantly pulling at his sleeves to hide the scars from yesterday night.

Moving my tray along the line in the cafeteria, I stare at the food(( in front of me, the pasta is actually just some soggy noodles dipped in filthy water. The white sauce looks more like some grey slime or goo that you would find really cheap at a thrift shop. The pudding, is neither sweet nor mouth-watering, no its just obnoxiously disgusting jelly with bits of dirt sticking out, it makes me gag. But I eat, I eat it all because if I don’t, they’ll shove it down my throat. I’d rather eat myself then make a scene and have people look at me. I’ve done enough of that in the past three weeks.

Now its time for group, a place where six emotionally damaged, self loathing teenagers sit. Their uneasiness, annoyance and irritation is literally radiating off of them. So silent, lost in thought, they speak when spoken too and they don’t say much, their voices are in monotone it really shows how happy they are to be expressing themselves in this perfect circle, of clearly imperfect people. Thinking, death, guilt, blood, questions or simply thinking as the clock ticks and we wait to be dismissed and for thinking to be over. But it’s never over, in the room, the bathroom, on the phone, in the middle of a conversation I’m always just thinking, it never really stops, does it?

Now I lay in bed, the bed that pokes my bones, the metal from underneath my paper-thin mattress sticks out and scratches at my skin. I rest my head on my pillow, which feels like my head is being pressed against a bunch of rocks, and ultimately my skull will crack, leaving behind a stream of blood for them to clean up.-H

Yes I’m losing my mind, but did I ever have one to begin? -H

Advertisements

One thought on “Mental..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s