The White Wall Diaries

"For crazy is just a term we place on someone who’s a little unstable. To be two people and not know when or where it will all end. She is my friend, my sister, she is a whole new version of me. Such lies, such battles of trying to be someone else- to actually pretend to be someone else. For people may call me crazy. I just say I’m unstable." - The journal entrie wrote just three days before my first brush with death.

May 30, 2009

Day one in a white walled lonely room. Nothing but a bed and a shelf. I don’t like not being able to decide what to doing. Having to do things everyone else’s way sucks. I overdosed on Xanax last night and cut my wrists. I am unsure as to why I had a suicide attempt so abruptly, and now here I am stuck in a white walled cell alone. With nothing but me and my own thoughts. I wish I could tell you why I did it, why I so badly wanted to go to sleep for good. I feel fine today as if nothing at all has changed. Why I did it is the question that still bothers me. Now I lay here alone and that bothers me, unsure of when I am aloud to go home. Mom did not come see me today as she was supposed to. She sent my younger siblings. Maybe she’s right, the last thing I needed was to see her and see her cry. My poor little brother, he looked so sad, I’m sorry little brother. I am sorry to all, and I love you.

May 31st, 2009

4:50pm- Day two in what could be classified as hell. How something can be taken so out of context and the next thing you know I am here in a mental facility. All I really wanted was to feel the high. I took to many Xanax but in spread out intervals. This will be an experience I will remember for the rest of my life. I think I need to apologize to a lot of people. My little sister for always knowing what is going on with me, knowing all of the bad. Cole for having to take me in. I have a lot of explaining to do to her. I love her. I don’t know, we will see what happens.

6:30pm- Arts and crafts, should be fun.

Peace, love, and hopefulness.

7:05pm- Such irony having scissors taken from me when the nurse had to walk away. I cut hair- shears, scissors are my life each day. Irony.

8:55pm- My craft is complete, some type of mosaic thing. It was fun, I won’t lie. I am still hoping I can get out tomorrow, if not then at least Wednesday. Tomorrow would defiantly rock. I need to get back into the swing of my daily life.

Anyways, let me explain the truth about Friday night, in a way I will never speak out loud to anyone. I was already unhappy for reasons unknown to anyone. Then I find out Casey has a date, and that right there sent me spiraling downward. I’m not saying I don’t want him to date. There is just something inside of me that is horribly jealous because I feel like I will never be able to be happy or find someone of my own, because of my other side. She has become very very real to me in the last few months.

Back to Friday night, I started downing Xanax actually at 8am, took three. Took three more a few more times, went to work, and they sent me home. Took 3 more, then sometime after 8pm I took four more. However many after that I am unsure of. Although I had thoughts of maybe dying, I had no intention of actually dying. I was looking for that high. My Xanax pills were the only way I knew how. Plain and simple. No suicide from this girl. The end.

June 1, 2009

Sometime before 9am- I will never forget the sound of them clicking every door handle down the hall way. Lying in bed listening to it interrupt the silence in this dark mental hospital. I’m hoping today that I may go home. I miss doing my hair, I miss my make-up, and actually getting up and getting dressed. I miss everything about not being locked up in this prison. Home seems pretty sweet to me, even school seems pretty sweet to me. All places would be better than here. Don’t get me wrong. All of the nurses are very nice, and they treat me very well. There is just no way I can last in here much longer. I can only entertain myself for so long. Oh, how boring it is here. First thing I do when I get out is smoke a cigarette, then eat something greasy and super delicious. That is what I am going to do.

12:20pm- So, I will get to go home today. Now it’s just waiting for everything to end, as in all the discharge shit to happen. White walls and nothing but air conditioning eats away at a person after a while. Just 3 and half more hours to go. I made it 3 days in a mental hospital. Fabulous is what it was not at all. I will remember this forever for sure- feeling sane compared to the others inside this white walled building. I remember Friday night when all I did was begged for a cigarette and some Burger King while I was in the ambulance. That will for sure be the first thing I do, oh yes for sure.

And with that I sign out- Peace, Love, and a future.

12:30pm- Dear Other self-

Best friends, sisters, we share the same body, mind, heart and soul. Forever in my body. Forever she has given my heart to the one she loves. Leaving me here to suffer in silence and in an unloved world. I love her. I hate her. She holds me back, yet at the same time pushes me threw. Where were you? Where were you the night I tried to die. Why were you not my strength? I believed you were a gift sent to me, to keep me strong. That night you coward down, you disappeared. Or where you there? Are you the reason I am still alive? Please come back to me, and tell me why. Please tell me you’re still here. Again, my sister, my best friend, I love you.

Love- Me

At this point the future for me is untold and all we can do is wait and see.