Monday, January 5, 2009

Troubled Thoughts- Part One

A story of teenage angst, depression, suicide and hope.
9:48 A.M. January 1, 2009
“New Start, Same Story”
It’s a new year, a new start- at least that’s what they told me. But in my mind, nothing will change; life will go on just the same as it did before. I’ll just keep going through this cycle- try, fail, break down, hopeless, the hospital… and then I’ll “start over” try, fail, you know. The cycle repeats itself just like it always does. I go through it every single time and I’m goddamn sick of it. Nothing is going to change my life, especially not a new year. A new start? It’s more like another chance to mess up. Today’s just another day with the same trials, with the same people and the same crap the pull, in this same sickening place. Ridiculous? I think yes.
So, my shrink thinks it will be good for me to write about my life. You know, the everyday occurrences and stuff. She says it will help me to “heal.” I swear I’ve told her a million times, I don’t need to get better. I don’t want to. She says I’m in denial and that it’s keeping me from admitting my desire to be fixed. I’m not in denial; I’m just done trying to fix the unfixable. Personally, I think that my shrink needs her own personal therapist. It’d probably do both her and me some good. Anyways, she wants me to write about my whole life, starting from whenever I choose and ending when I’m “better.” It’s pretty stupid, but it’ll all be recorded in you, a journal, a stupid little black and white journal. There will be ignorance, irritation and probably enough sarcasm to power the entire teenage race, but bear with me, little journal. Maybe someday, someone will read you and actually enjoy my life’s story. Yeah, right. Oh, Dr. Gwen, if only you could see how ridiculous this little journal is. There isn’t a person in the right mind that would ever care to learn about a teenage girl trying to overcome her “issues.” Oh, Dr. Gwen, don’t you understand that this little project isn’t going to help anyone?
To be honest, I’m not quite sure why I’m writing in you right now, little journal. I mean, I have some pretty tough problems, things you would never understand. What could writing possibly do to help me recover from the pain I’ve been through? I heard Dr. Gwen say that you’re super important to my treatment. I don’t know why nor do I care, but that’s beside the point. It’s sad isn’t it, knowing that a genius doctor and the best psychiatrist in the state need you to write a story in order to make you better? There is the fact that I refuse to cooperate during my therapy sessions, but still. Writing my life story?! I guess there’s nothing to lose, not that I even need help, but here it goes. Little journal, I just want to let you know that I’m going to bring you back to a time that wasn’t so pretty. There will be lots of blood and guts and tears, but if you stick with me through it all and who knows what will happen.
-Autumn Ray

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