September 14th, 2016
I'm writing today. Would you be proud of me? I hope so. The only reason I decided to pick up the pencil was because I was thinking of you.
I still don't really know what to write about, but thoughts and feelings seems to be the direction the voices want to go, so I'll try it.
Today I was thinking a lot about the day I came here, the psychiatric hospital. The memory is very vivid. I remember the salty tears running down my face as I said goodbye to my mom. I didn't want to be at a psych ward, but deep down I knew that I wasn't normal. That I needed to be here. It was for my own good.
The voices in my head thought otherwise, they seemed to believe that the people here would make them leave my mind. Yet one year later and they're still here. I think that's why they are beginning to warm up to the place. Good thing too, I was beginning to get fed up with their complaining.
The hospital itself isn't horrible like people make it out to be. Some say that psych wards look like jail cells, and that the people there are cruel. This is untrue. I'm allowed to leave my room and socialize with the other people here, and the staff and volunteers are incredibly kind. I can only imagine the kind of crap they have to deal with yet they still manage to be the nicest people I've ever met.
Now don't get me wrong, I don't love it here. But I'm not normal and if this is somewhere I need to be, then I'll be here.
I just want to be better like you would want me to be.
[a/n: sorry to confuse anyone, everything will start to make sense in the next few chapters.]
