8:25 p.m. --- "Any road will get you there when you don't know where you're going." - the Cheshire Cat --- 2004-10-10
i know i am not thin and frail and therefore pitiable. sometimes i so desperately want to be small and childlike so someone can love me. i ache with the memories of Pinefield Institution. it's like i am their keeper, only a medium through which they move through like a storm. i hold these images of screaming, rocking, hopeless girls deep in my head... far away from the surface, far from the piercing light. beneath the surface of the fact that i'm not suicidal anymore, and i don't cut myself anymore lies a deep, cancerous doubt that i truly belong buried in an asylum: reduced to a craving, unloved animal- molested and eventually alone. i'm back at home now, loathing any small reminder of my psych ward stay, knowing that any soothing cut across my arm will bring swift judgment- more medications, more therapy, possibly more time in another hospital. so i sit here, seething, yearning, needing...
