Copyright, Mal

There was some sort of program at our school that day. I remember waking up and planning my fate on the way to school. The sky was an awful shade of gray, telling me it could feel my pain. It didn’t matter whether the sky could talk to me, I was alone and considered myself crazy.

Once at school, I saw everyone filing into the audatorium. The rebellious attitude I had then I thought “screw em” and wandered off to the bathroom, where I spent many first periods. Locked myself in a stall, and started working on my arm. I had brought a bottle of aspirin and 90 seroquel. I told myself if Krista (a counselor/teacher) couldn’t help me today, then I would end it. I thought I deserved at least one chance.

After 45 minutes of glorious slicing, I heard the bell. Off to see Krista. After telling her, she said she would have to call emergency crisis response. She told me to be honest. I would have done anything she told me to do. I was in a daze, not realizing what was happening.

They came, I talked to a guy and he told me I had two choices: Enter the psych ward voluntarily or go involuntarily. My eyes met Kristas. How thoughtful of him to give me a choice. I surely didn’t want to go involuntarily. So I left with him.

Once at the hospital. I thought of myself as pathetic, I couldnt even kill myself successfully. This was my life. Hospital after hospital. I was crazy, and I still am.

I convinced the doctors there that I didn’t want to die. And they let me go. Even after staying in isolation for 2 days. They let me go. But I guess I’m still alive today, and that’s all that matters. Well alive in a sense. Physically I’m alive. But I’m dead in any other sense. So this is my life…


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