Current Times and ReflectionsMature

    Now I'm in my last year of middle school, then its off to high school with me. I'm still made fun of, but mostly in these odd little jabs that only I realise are awful. I think about my time in the hospital quite a lot lately. I think about the people I met there, particularly a girl named Theresa that was there both times I was. I wonder what happened to them. Did Alice get over her anger issues? Jackson, over his depression? What happened to those I said I wold keep in-touch with, and those I didn't? It seems odd, but those people in the hospital, some were thieves, some were young and simply crazy, we formed strong bonds. I think it was because we were forced to live together, be together at most hours and we had lots of things in common, that we became such good friends so quickly. We shared things with each other that we wouldn't say in the real world. Such as my nightmares. Nobody except those that were in the hospital, (and now you, reader) know about my waking nightmares. I don't sleep well because they haunt me at night, but now they haunt the daylight, too. Anybody asks why I sleep with the light on, I simply say because I'm too lazy to get up and turn it off. Honestly, I sleep with the lights on because I'm terrified. I can't have mirrors in my room, or my mind thinks "Bloody Mary," and yet, I surround myself with things like Living Dead Dolls. Honestly, I'm getting nervous writing this. Also, in the hospital, I was diagnosed with several phobias (rather, they were confirmed) and pica. Pica is an eating disorder - I tend to eat inedible things, such as paper, lotion, dirt... I don't really remember the sames of the phobias, or how to spell them - I have a list somewhere - but I have a phobia of symmetry, clowns, closed-in spaces (claustrophobia), spiders, and so on. Trust me, listing them all would be hazardous. But back to the topic. For some reason, looking back upon the notes we passed in the hospital and my journal entries, cycling back through my memories of the place, makes me want to cry. Sometimes I do. Maybe its because everyone was equal there. Nobody was better than anyone else, nobody made fun of anyone else. The memory that stands out the most to me was the apple juice. We were all kind of convinced they drugged it, because after we drank it, everyone was so insane and happy and simply... carefree.

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