Lost Iâ

media type="custom" key="3418836" **Lost Iâ**

November 30th, 2006 - Day 8 I woke up five days ago in this...place. They had me tied down, my arms and body all bandaged up. They gave me this journal to write in three days ago. They say it'll help. I don't think so. But whatever. All I remember is Matthew that night with his warm hands but eyes cold. I remember the sirens, and him struggling to hold me as blood smeared all over his body from my own. I remember his tears, those tears... I haven't seen him since. Maybe he visited me, but I don't know. I just want to leave, I don't need to be around these people. I'm not crazy, they are. Whatever. Fuck writing.

December 2nd, 2006 - Day 10 Fine. They win, for now. I'll write in this fucking book. It's just a stupid piece of paper, what the hell will it do for me. And this stupid 'therapist', Dr. Widmoore, yeah. He's a joke. Whatever, so they're attempting to treat me. The voices are just getting worse, but whatever. I'll eventually die, they told me I will. So whatever. They give me these stupid pills every morning, supposidly Anti-Depressants and all that shit. It doesn't do shit for me. And I can't collect them 'cause the nurse either shoves it in my mouth, or watches until she knows it's in me. Fucking bitch. I want to die and nothing will change that. Not medicines, nothing they think will help.. I have no reason to live really. My dad's dead, I've already basically killed my mother on the inside, Matthew probably moved on from me, I mean, who wouldn't, and I just can't stand myself anymore. Neither do they. I hate all of this. Everyone here is crazy. They say I'm crazy, but whatever. I'm not crazy. They just think I am. So, I hear voices. I'm not crazy. Just... different.

December 4th, 2006 - Day 12 Matthew came to visit me yesterday. It was nice, but I... I don't know. I miss him. He's really the only thing besides my mom I'll 'try' to fight for. He came in and laid down with me in bed. He held me and brushed his hand through my hair like he always used to. I noticed his face when he saw my arm. His emotions were just completely robbed from him. And it's all my fault. Ugh, I always fuck up something. And I managed to upset him, again. Well, then again, killing myself wouldn't have been a beautiful day for him. I just want to be with him. I need him here. I need him for support, comfort and to try to comfort him. I need to do something. I need to escape here. Maybe I'll find a way out... Maybe.

December 6th, 2006 - Day 14 Bobby wont stop banging on the fucking walls every night, so I can't sleep. They need to learn to tie him down better cause apparently it's not good enough. He comes into my room when he can and just stares at me and screams Pineapple. Like, what the fuck? Pineapple. He's crazy, not me. I just want to get out of this place and not listen to this shit. And Betty, stupid bitch. She's always walking around naked, and shit is that the worst thing to ever see by far. Always laughing with her stupid high pitch voice. I can't stand it. She just stares at you as she stands there, fat and naked, laughing like a fucking chipmunk.

December 7th, 2006 - Day 15 I hate that I can't go outside. I've tried, but they won't let me go. They think I'll manage to escape or something. I want to just lay in the snow naked and let it freeze me to death or something. Though that's probably not possible. Whatever. Dr. Widmoore keeps dragging me to come to sessions. Well, really Nurse Steph, but still. I have to see the both of them regardless. And I hate that. He just asks me how I feel and why I tried to kill myself that night, still. I won't ever tell him. He knows about the voices, but still. I won't let him into my head. I can't. I'll never let him into my head.

December 12th, 2006 - Day 20 He got into my head. At least a little bit. I can't let him in but it's way too hard now. Bastard. Those fucking eyes of his just stab me. Ugh. I feel like I can't ever do anything anymore. I just can't add up to be better than everyone else. Nothing is going to change. I will never be able to improve myself. I've tried too fucking hard, I'm done with trying. I'm done with life. I don't know what to fucking do. Fuck this all. I'm really in dire need to escape this place. Whatever they're doing is just making it worse. Ugh. I can't stand their false faces, lies, and just scientifical shit to why I'm like this. Fuck that theory shit. They don't know a damn thing, just could pay for everything, get a damn degree and claim themselves doctors. Yeah, right. Aren't doctors suppose to help? Ha, well they're not doing their job well for me; they're making it worse.

December 15th, 2006 - Day 23 I really can't stand this place. They won't let me do anything, and they tie me down every time I begin to scratch my arms. I want to kill myself, I need to die. I have no reason to be here. Fucking Widfag and everyone wants to "help" but how the fuck can they help? They can't. Assholes are just aggravating me more and more, making me want to die. Why should I even stay here on this damn earth with people like them. Oh yeah, it's nice and all they they want to help, but come the fuck on. If I want to die, let me die. Clrealy the fact that I disappoint everyone isn't hurting me or stopping meI don't think it really matters dto me much right now. And honestly, they need to learn to keep Betty in a hole or something. I beat the shit out of her last night. They don't know, but it wouldn't matter to me if they did know. Fat fuck needed a beating, whether she's challenged or not. Fuck that shit.

December 17th, 2006 - Day 25 I was suspended from all the "fun" activities of like puppet shows and watching TV. Someone told on me for beating up that Betty bitch. She'll get it, again. Whatever. I just sat in my room, and realized how much I really do want to die. I'm just a fialure. The voices and I had a pretty long converstaion, about a good eight hour long conversation, about how much I suck at life and everything. Banged my head continueously on the walls for a little while, then Nurse Steph came in, realizing that it was my head rather my hand. She put me in that room everyone thinks is so cool with the cusioned walls for 24 hours. Regardless to how it's annoying as fuck, it was pretty fun for a while. But I couldn't die unless they left me starving, but that wasn't going to happen, unfortunatly. Eh. So I guess this Diary shit is just fun as hell to write in and complain to 'cause the voices can't really get me here. Well, they can as I write, but whatever. They won't and can't really respond on the paper which is pretty cool. I just wish tehy were really real. I'm not crazy though. Everyone hears them, they told me.

December 24th, 2006 - Day 32 Christmas is tomorrow. They dressed up the place all fancy and shit. Pine trees and stupid tinsel. Bobby ate some of it for lunch. What about the Jews? Maybe that's why Bobby ate some. I think he's Jewish. Whatever. Holidays are a joke. An extreme joke. Whatever. I had them remove the mirror in my bathroom. I don't know why they even put it in there in the first place. My mom tries to visit me, but she can't even stand the site of me. And my brother is... him. Video games, all that shit, and doesn't care to visit me much. I talk to him practically once a month on the phone, and to mom once a week now. Mom forces Ted to come as much as possible. Sometime she's able to drag his fat ass to see me, but I could care less to see anyone. Matthew brings me flowers as much as he can. If he can't make it to see me, he'll send me a letter or call, or something. He used to visit every other day after my first week of being here. But now it's twice, if possible, every week.

December 30th, 2006 - Day 38 Matthew came by for Christmas. He brought me a teddy bear, a nice card and what not. It was nice and all but it's not what I want. I just want to either die, or just leave this place and be able to lay with Matthew until I die. To just be held by the man I believe I love and to feel his warmth rather this cold empty space. I hate this place, I hate it so much! I can't stand it at all. They're starting to take me to shock treatment, claiming it will help. This is such a joke! It's not helping. The voices and I together laugh at their attempts. I can't ever tell if it's a guy or a chick when they're talking to me.