I was discharged from the hospital today. It wasn’t an actual hospital, it was more like outpatient therapy that lasted during school hours. Every single day was the same as the day before: Therapy, “School”, a small break, then more “school” and finally some boring “activity” that was a little different each day but repeated each week. As a very second went by, it felt like an hour, As as every minute went by it felt like a day, every hour felt like a week and every week felt like a month. I was there for 3 whole months.

I spent the first few days just constantly crying. I couldn’t say a word and I definitely didn’t want to. I felt so afraid and scared of everything and everyone. After the first few days, I learned about their system, the incentives and how people get out of there. So, I started thinking to myself: “Why not just fake it so I can leave asap?”. In the beginning it felt really wrong  but as I thought about it more and more, I started liking the idea. So I made a plan; Slowly, slowly I would start “opening up” and “improving myself” so I could leave and never have to see any of them ever again. All I could think about were going back to my normal life and seeing all my friends again.

The time I spent in between was pretty good for the most part. My plan worked perfectly and I even made a few friends. Or acquaintances at the least but they were nice. My acting was surprisingly so good that I got to go on all of the incentive trips and I think the staff genuinely liked me. In all honesty, I hated therapy the most; more specifically family therapy. The only person I would allow in it was my mom and even that bothered me (at the time).

The last few days were so short because they were going to let me go back to school soon. I couldn’t wait to go back because I hated every second of being there. They said “You have improved so much!” and “I am so proud of how far you’ve come!”. I wanted to laugh so bad. At that moment, I really considered acting and joining drama class. I remember thinking I would’ve gotten an A without even trying. Little did they know I didn’t actually make any “improvements”. I would later realize that I had done a horrible thing that till this day I cannot find it in my heart or mind to forgive myself.

The last day I was there I finally realized I had a problem. Unfortunately, I didn’t say anything and I have always regretted that. Sometimes I lie awake thinking “I should’ve said something. I should have opened my mouth and told the truth”. It took me a long time after that to finally admit to myself that what I did was wrong. On the bright side, when I finally did start therapy again (a different type of therapy) things eventually did get better. I have my good days and bad days now, but I know that everything that has ever happened is all my fault. After all, It's all my fault for not understanding why I am not happy.