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Margo
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If there's one thing I've learned from being in this shit hole seven damn times, it's that my thoughts are my biggest enemy.

There's nothing to distract me here. My phone and other electronics are confiscated, I can only watch TV in the common area with other sick people, and all their "activities" are ass.

So that leaves me with my thoughts. Every single one of them gets louder and louder. I can't ignore it. The only time I can is when I'm smoking. Bell tends to do a good job of distracting me too, with all her weirdness and all. Oh, and that Collin guy seems to be... nice.

I guess reading isn't the worst thing in the world. There isn't a library or anything, but they do have a small collection of books and if I have one in mind, Nurse Penny usually finds a way to bring it to me.

Nurse Penny is singlehandedly the only good thing to happen to this place. God, I love that woman.

This new medication I'm on has me all kinds of exhausted. At least I'm not having massive suicidal ideations or any of the other seventeen million fucked up things my bipolar disorder puts me through.

This time wasn't really my fault, but God forbid anyone believes me about that. It's really messed up that just because I'm not eighteen I don't have the right to decide if I'm locked up or not.

Do these people really think my parents give a damn about what happens to me? They just don't want to deal with me because I'm not normal as the rest of them. Marley is the only person who ever really loved me on this frightful planet.

Now I can't even see Marley. I can when my evil vulture parents allow her to see me. How are you gonna ban your children from seeing one another? Fucking assholes.

I pace around my bedroom, trying to slow my racing thoughts as the horror show that is my life whips through my brain.

Clearly, this medication isn't working. I suppose I should "give it time," as they say, but I already know it'll be the same. It always is.

I try to find things around my room to distract me. The mirror is all that catches my attention. I stand in front of it, glancing at myself, analyzing every last detail of the girl in front of me.

She's unfamiliar.

I don't recognize myself sometimes. The way my hair falls around my chubby cheeks and the dark circles that have appeared over the last few months. I don't like the girl before me because she let him take advantage of her.

I still cannot believe I let myself be so stupid. I've been labeled as many things in my life, but I could confidently say that stupid was never one of them.

It is now, though, because trusting X was fucking stupid. The dumbest thing I've ever done and the dumbest thing I ever will do. Trusting any man should be classified as a symptom of insanity.

The worst part is that I can't blame it all on him. Yeah, he's a fucking asshole and yeah, he ruined my life and basically nearly killed me; but, I'm the reason I'm still here.

It's always me.

I stare into my eyes blankly, feeling nothing like the girl I see.

The girl I see is a girl I don't like.

I know who I am.

I'm Margo July and there's no hiding from it. It's hard to ignore when doctors are shoving diagnoses and medications down my throat. And yet I'm still here. All because I let myself get carried away. I let my manic side take over and convince me that-

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