Oh good my meds are kicking in (sarcasm people, this place keeps you doped up), but I have so much stuff I thought about in group today that I want to write about. I should have done this earlier because now I don’t really remember it all. Damn medications. Group today was half stupid sharing and half “sex ed”…apparently we have that here…and it was actually kind of fun…I learned stuff…like that when you have sex and you’re pregnant, it doesn’t hit the baby (debunked where dimples come from! haha..) I also learned that guys can still pee with “morning wood”, it’s just harder (haha) and messier…and that I probably don’t remember what happened with Jon (the sex thing) because it was too overwhelming. That one seems a little hard to believe.

Okay so anyway what keeps going round about in my head is that i’m no where near as bad as those kids who are going to be in residential are…well if they are the way I think they are…I don’t know for sure. But it seems like those kinds of places are such a waste. When you walk into somewhere like this it’s like “insta fake”, you’re suddenly happy and on your best behavior because you want out A.S.A.P. I don’t know maybe I’m still like that, still stuck in that mode. Even now I still think that in residential if I be “good” I can get out faster and if you read my previous pages you can see that there is no place i’d rather be right now then home. But back to what I was saying…all those triggers that make things so crappy really don’t affect me here and when they do it’s on a much smaller scale…so I don’t feel like I’m really dealing with anything at all…all those triggers will still be there even when I get out, and when they are…will it send me back to another place like this? Group stirred up some things today, for a few minutes I came out of my fake “la la land” and remembered…yeah, I’ve actually got shit to deal with. I don’t want to deal with it…I want to run…to run and ignore…but I’m starting to not be able to run fast enough.

okay so my meds are really kicking my ass right now and I’m seeing double…and shits blurry…it’s kind of cool actually, I feel drunk…but I’m sober! or am I?…no, I most definitely am where the hell would I get booze in this place? Well i’m starting to get to the point of medication induced zombiefication where I can’t even read my own hand writing and what they gave me are sleeping pills…you can only fight those bad boys for so long, and I’m loosing…so I will write more tomorrow.



Never did I think that I would miss my family as much as I do. At home I just sit up in my room and ignore them all day long, now I would do anything to be with them. I’ll admit it…I’m home sick. I convinced Dr. Tye to let my mom bring my little brother for visitation since I haven’t seen him in about a month and I don’t know the visitation rules at Havenwyck. Though we couldn’t visit up on the unit…since hes way under 18, so we used her office. But seeing him might have bee worse then not. Sure I missed him but when I saw him he looked like a completely different baby and he acted like he didn’t even know me. Mom said it was because he had so much stuff to look at and get into…he did, don’t get me wrong that room is full of shit…but I really think that he didn’t have any idea who I was. I would give anything to be back at home with him and the rest of them. I sure fucked things up…bad this time. It’s not just a normal week…two weeks in a hospital somewhere, now it’s months…when I get out he could be all grown up. He won’t know at all who I am and I won’t know who he is, they grow up so fast when their babies. I sound like a mom, but I might as well be. He came from my mom, but he’s my baby…was anyway.


Side note – I told Mrs. Rosemary how I felt and she said that he could be mad at me for leaving…he’s only one…and like I had any say in the matter.

Today you get quotes, I’m far too lazy to write today…

“The complex emotions leaked from my skin in the form of blood”

“Time you enjoyed wasting, is not time wasted”

“I believe every child is entitled to a life free from violence and full of possibilities”

“The greatest waste is the difference between who you are, and who you could be”

“It’s not a failure to fall down…it’s a failure not to pick yourself back up”

“Insanity is relieving the pain by going back to the source”

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results”

“you reach your bottom, when you stop digging”

“all action is born in thought”

So this is what it all comes down to…all those meetings…all those people who don’t even know me making decisions and saying things about me. Havenwyck…all I know is the hospital was a hell hole and I dont think the residential will be any different. There both Havenwyck. But I’ve stooped pretty low…after all those threats of going some where its finally happening. I keep trying to think logically and accept the idea that I’m going, maybe i won’t be there too long and who knows it might…keep in mind I’m saying might, not even be that bad. And then I wake up and my emotions take back over and I hate it and cry. I don’t want to go! When I first heard about it I bitched out the social worker. I don’t even remember how many times I said “Fuck” but yeah…I broke down and cried. I cried a lot more that day then all the days that I’ve been here combined. I got too hopeful when I heard that Common Ground denied to pay, I watched what I did and said in hopes that I would go home. I played “nice” but noooo. Someone killed that idea and had a fat lady stomp on it with cleats…my fate has been decided…I’m going to hell. Mrs. Fox said that when I came in I was so negative but that I’ve really improved…see I was able to fool her, just damn it…not everyone else.

My journal got taken away from me for “bad behavior”…psssh. Fuck you guys.

I’m pissed off.

I’ve been here too long, in eight days it’ll be a month…so much for my usual short visit, my patience is really running out. Easter Seals keeps having meeting after meeting and their getting NO WHERE. Common ground denied long-term because they didn’t want to pay for it…so what does Easter Seals do? Re-submit it! If they denied it once then why would they accept it the second time? I don’t know…it makes absolutely no sense to me. I don’t want to spend my whole summer in a place like this, life continues even while I’m stuck in here. I feel like I’m in jail…punished for being a criminal of sorts. But what I miss most…or I guess you could say who I miss most, is my little brother. Mom keeps telling me all the new stuff he’s doing that I’m missing out on. He says “I love you” now and gives butt hugs! I want a butt hug…just any kind of hug actually. But whats frustrating isn’t missing out on “butt hugs” (even though it sucks) no…it’s having people I don’t know and who don’t even know me making decisions for me. And their FUCKING IT UP. If anyone is going to fuck up my life, it should be me. Of course they don’t care though because it’s not affecting them and their not the ones stuck in this place waiting for an answer. Mom was never involved in my treatment before and she picks now to be. She keeps royally fucking me over. Her opening her big old mouth is what got all this started. Easter Seals is moving so slow I was supposed to get answers with in 48 hours…yeah it took a week for them to submit it and get denied. Now watch it take another week for them to re-submit it. I would be pissed, no way am I staying a month here just to have my ass sent somewhere else. This is absolutely ridiculous, no one has any answers, I don’t know why there doing what they are and I hate being in limbo! It has got to be the most annoying thing of all, I don’t know if I’m staying or if I’m going. Mom says “well just get involved” well no mom, if I was to “just get involved” then my ass would be stuck here for longer. I have been playing “nice” and lying my ass off in hopes that I could go home. If I told them what I really thought and really felt then for sure I would be sent some where. I’m so fake when i’m in places like this…you have to be. I still self-injure, but i’m smart about it…unlike some people…I do it on my legs instead of my arms so they can’t see, And you definitely make sure you don’t tell anyone, no ones safe. Those who cut and tell are just in it for the attention. Uhg, I have to see Seth tomorrow, I really don’t care to talk to him. I’m sick of talking about how I feel and I’m sick of therapy. I don’t know why I am the way that I am…Grandma came for visitation today since mom and dad couldn’t,,,she said she knew what was going on before mom and dad told anyone. She might have, I don’t know. But I tried explaining how I felt to her and I sounded so stupid. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know why things are this way. I make no sense. My problems are just my problems…so that makes them no big deal…there not worth talking about. They make no sense and there only tiny little things that don’t need to be talked about. I sound stupid, weak and pathetic…I just need to shut up. I need to pay someone to talk to me…I fucking hate it. I hate that I can’t do this on my own…that I need someone to help. Other people can be normal with out help and without medication, why can’t I?

…getting help makes you weak.

More poems from class…


Most wouldn’t suspect her, but what they don’t know, is that life is her play and she is the actor in this show,

She wears a mask, crafted ever so carefully, the perfect portrayal of happiness,

in hopes to conceal the affliction that lies beneath,

she can’t pull herself up from a puddle, yet she is swimming in an ocean where all she can do is drown,

she is walking in the rain, each drop pressing down on her already heavy shoulders,

she is suffocating,

no on seems to notice, as is she were a spirit, try as she might to scream it were if her mouth had been rusted shut,

the feeling of happiness erased from her mind, senses dulled…leaving reality behind,

she is a zebra with no stripes, an outcast,

her body weighing heavily and wearing thin, the faces of each passer by…she wishes to melt into them,

she is detached from this world, it seems just a dream, her wish to wake up…impossible it seems.



She watches with each passing day, they live their lives as she disappears from hers,

wavering like the flame of a candle, soon to be blown out by the wind,

she tells a story without words, her skin is her bulletin board, each scar possessing a story unique to itself,

tarnished silver, fruit speckled with bruises…she is not worth much at all,

the mirror bares the truth, there is no beauty…only beast,

depression has made a home inside of her, eating away at every thread still connected to the outside world,

her body, soul…carved out like a pumpkin on Halloween, the face carved, bleak and expressionless,

it begins to rain, her hair matter, raindrops like tears begin to stream down her face,

she looks in, eyes locking with yours, tension, walk to the window…close the curtain.



I poem I wrote for school…we had to write about what it would be like if we actually physically met ourselves.

“As well as I can remember, I’ve never had a twin,

yet what can explain, how I found myself, face to

face with someone, a stranger, that of whom I

bare an eerie resemblance to,

Though I had no rememberance of it, for fear

of insanity, I prayed the image before me was

merely my reflection,

I held up my hands, palm side out, expecting

the image to follow, it’s motions to move in

sync with mine, much to my disbelief, it didn’t,

the image before me stayed fixed,

eyes widening, growing like sauces

in size i tried again, refusing to admit


still the image stay fixed in a death

like stance, it’s gestures separate from

mine, even the tiniest members, my toes,

I had no control over,

I stare through hair at the face before me,

her face new, yet familiar,

she stood before me, not tall not fat,

not short nor skinny, but average in

many ways,

she was a quiet girl, one who said

more in her head than she ever did


Her face wore no emotion,

her eyes no life,

there stone cold grey bore into you,

turning you transparent, cutting through,

to her your not even there,

Her smile artificial, forces every time,

as if there were a weight pulling down at

each corner of her mouth,

she sits on the furthest end of the room,

avoiding conversation, blending in, imitating

the furniture,

retreating into her head once again,

so as not to get hurt, or realize shes alone,

the floor could better recall her feature,

more than her peers could,

an opinionated girl, a smart girl,

though she has been knocked down

one too many times with criticism,

she is not a single person, but two,

one inside itself, the facade, the shell is

who you see, the other like in a suit of armor

can not penetrate nor break free,

she has built up layer after layer,

someone with such thing skin every

cruel comment clinging to her like a bur,

and I know this how? that image in the mirror,

that familiar face…is mine.


These are “Jason-o-fied”…in other words he just wrote them down as he remembered them.

Genesis: 1:26-27 – We are created in the image of god, only human beings are described this way. As a human, you are uniquely created, but you are created in the image of the God of the universe.

Psalm 139 – God knows us inside and out. We are eternely valuable and precious to him.

Jeremiah 29:11-14 – While this verse was directed at the God’s people as a whole, there is a very real sense in which God wants to give each of us a future and a hope.

Matthew 9:9-13 – Jesus seeks people who are honest about there struggles and challenges. God cares about those who need him. (I like this one the best)

Luke 4:14-21 – Jesus came for those who feel unworthy, unlovable and alone in this world.

Luke 7:36-50 – God’s love is not just for those who are “good”. He loves all people, regardless of where they have been or what they have done.

Luke 18:9-14 – God will listen to you, even when you don’t feel like you’re good enough.

So before I had every intention to write all the quotes Jason gave me on these two pages…well as I started writing I realized that by no way would I have enough room (plus I’m just lazy too). So I just wrote down the ones I liked most.



Breakfast: 2 pieces of french toast and 16 oz of orange juice

Lunch: 3 pieces of cucumber, a piece of cantaloupe, 2 spoonfuls of pudding and a diet pop. purged it

Samantha’s going to camp today so I knew that mom and dad weren’t going to come for visitation and I was okay with that, I was just going to sleep. But low and behold grandma comes in their place…and with subway (at least it’s a little healthy) but that totally ruined it for today. Fuck. It will be lights out before I have time to get rid of this.


If you answer prayers then why wouldn’t you answer mine? Just let me die! I don’t care where I go. I don’t take Jason finding me as a sign that I should live but rather as a sign that I would have succeeded.

I thought god wasn’t supposed to hurt his children…why do you just stand by and watch me?


This world doesn’t need me in it. It still pisses me off that Jason found me and brought me home before I could do anything. Then had enough nerve to go in my bag and pull it out…


And worst of all now I have no one to talk to because everything I say could be used against me, even by Jason…he’ll run and tell my mom. No ones safe anymore.

*Jason was my youth minister at the time. One day I was plotting and scheming and purposefully missed the bus, loaded up my bag with what I needed and walked to the woods near by my school, when I went to cross the street Jason drove by and saw me…he knew something was up because I wasn’t in class. He picked me up and ended up driving me home where he told my mom EVERYTHING. After my dirty laundry was aired, I was off the Kingswood.

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