People tend to see the worst in others. If you were to try to talk to someone and they’re ignoring you, you would automatically thing that he or she is rude, or just likes to be alone. Obviously, you would leave them alone, little did you know, what if that person is having trouble making friends, is having a bad day, etc. Its just a thought, what really bothers me is me having a therapist. I barely had one for a few days, now here I am, in a mental hospital. Saying that I am in one will make me sound like a crazy, psychopath going through metal issues. And honestly, I’m just here because of serious depression, suicide problems. I know they’re worried about me, but serious, do they really think medication and group counseling will help me erase the memories and thoughts I have. ever since those days, I never believed in medicine. You would think that there are teens in there that are wacko but they seem like normal teenagers, just lost in their own world. I met a lot of people in there, bigger, smaller, older, and younger than me. Their stories are touching but some were dark, and dangerous in its own twisted way. And here I thought if my story would be as important as theirs. My countdown to get out of here is 3 weeks. I was happy to have my own room, but as days past I saw them leaving and new ones coming in, I would just stare, wondering how much longer will it last. My routine was simple, wake up, eat breakfast, shower, hang out, sleep, shower, group therapy, school, sleep, shower, write in my journal or draw, shower, lunch, hangout, and go to bed. The only fun thing for me was to shower. As odd as that sounds, it funny to think about it. In my 2nd week I got 2 new roommates, I forgot their names but what I didnt forget were their stories. One of them was a drug addict, and another was a self-harming type of girl. we got very close, and the closer it got for me to leave and go to reality, the more I felt this place like home. Besides the counseling, medication, and crazy looking rooms, it gave me a home, comforting feeling. I remember a week before I left, we were finally able to come out and play in the park, I ended up breaking my ankle bone. Luckly, I was right next to a hospital. All my life I always wanted a cast, because I thought they were cool. But I got a walking boot and a wheelchair. I was extremely disappointed but the only good thing that came out of this was the no walking and being able to take off the boot for showers. There has to be good and bad coming out of any experience you have right ?