so I didnt go for that drive or leave the house but I did stay up listening to music for abit. I am not a drinker. Matteroffact I have never drank in my life ontil 6 months ago maybe. I had a period where I started to drink every other night. but for the last month now, I stopped. It has turned into a habbit of taking a glass or two a night when I never had the desire.
Here is a copy of the book to be published soon.....here is one page of it so far. I am left with editting it or checking it so i work on it....this book is currently at 370pages and almost done.
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Unit 9
Sometimes in th middle of this mess, I see the real me. Maybe it’s the idea of who I can be! Maybe it is the hope of what I can be! Who knows! All I know is that I want out and maybe this dream can be a reality someday.
I guess my greatest fear is being free and harboring this terrible pain and loneliness with me. It is really hard to predict this future in my life that will come sooner then later. I don’t know if I can live in the real world with the feelings I hold secret inside of me and survive at the same time. I don’t know if the two things in my life can mesh!
My pain and life!
I guess, if I knew that no matter where I went, this pain will follow: I would choice confinement.
Confinement and immense suffering mash like potatoes and carrots. Just so very perfect!
I have a window view and no interest to look out of it.
I have been on this unit for awhile and there doesn’t seem to be an end to this transfer.
They keep on sending me from one location to another. Well, I am happy that I will be moving on again. This unit doesn’t want me and to be honest it is not home to me. I don’t feel at home and I don’t feel comfortable.
None of the nurses on the unit want to talk to me and I am stuck with these male workers who just sit by the door. They stare down the hall rather then at me. They don’t seem to want to work. They just seem to want to watch television.
I am home in different sense. I am located back on my old stomping grounds. Family is close even though they never visit. At least they can all rest assure that I am here.
I fail to notice the obvious. I am merely 16 and I am locked inside a hospital. I have not learned to drive, been to my prom, had my first date and never been happy.
For some reason none of this is relevant to me. For some reason none of this cries abnormal to me. All my life, I knew I wasn’t going to live out my life on the rez. I even knew I wasn’t going to live in society. Something in me lead me to the system. To the comfort of the confinement and solitary.
"Agnes, did you eat your supper?" call out the male worker.
I looked down at my cold supper that was a mix between meat loaf and burnt bread.
I ran my fork through my potatoes and felt all kinds of hard bumps in it.
I pushed my plate away and said, "No, it is gross!"
"If you don’t eat half your meal you will lose your privileges!"
I sighed.
I eat half my meal in a hurry with 2 big bites.
"THERE!" I yell out.
He looks at me and doesn’t smile. He seems mad at me for being sassy. So I smile with a mouth full of food at him and chew my food.
Even though I am considered dangerous to myself and everyone around me, hence the 24/7 constant care worker with me, I always remember I am still a kid!
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This is a picture of my brother, my dad and of me. I was abused at a young age-so much so that I feel like I was born abused. if that makes any sense. I guess I say that because I have always remembered that way of life...
Our dad didnt care for us. He left us with our Grandmother and schizoprenic Uncle who wasnt on medicine and who always beat my brother and I up everyday.
and YES, those are two healing 'black eyes' around my two eyes. The brusie was huge and took 2 week to heal.
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