Suicide Letters to Brandon

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Well, I guess this will be my goodbye. My real goodbye. Nobody is home, and I have nobody to call. It's over. I have made my last ripple on the world I think. I really don't know what else to do. I know that I've said all this shit before, but there was one main difference between then and now. I had somebody who loved me. Now I'm back to being alone and I don't have anywhere to go. I have backed myself into a corner and left a path of destruction in my wake, and I'm tired.

I have a razor in front of me and its song is so sweet. I know that now will be different, because I have nothing left. My mother hasn't given me my meds in a while, but I don't know if that has anything to do with anything. I have been feeling this way for a while, like everything was just slipping away. I have done so many bad things and hurt so many good people in the process. Enough is enough.

I am sorry that all of this shit keeps happening. I really am. More so to you than to myself. I am sorry that I ruined my relationship with my boyfriend, my relationship with you, and my relationship with my various friends and family. I'm sorry to everybody. I just want to make everyone happy. I know that I don't deserve love from anyone, but it would've been nice to have. I know that I am a chronic complainer, and a horrible person and I'm sorry. I only pray that I have the courage to go through with this right now to save anyone any futhur pain at my expense.

Thank you for listening to me for as long as you did. I'm sorry that things didn't work out. I'm sorry that I ruined things with everybody. I hope to never see you again, because that would mean that I'm still here. Well, I've done it, and the pain is bittersweet. I'm sorry for everything. I hope that everyone can be happier now.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Two words: Liquid stitches. Why does everything have to get so fucked up? It kept bleeding and bleeding and it felt so good to cut. One clean slice down the center of the wrist. God it felt so good. Now it hurts, not only because of the physical pain but also that I allowed myself to get so wrapped up in something that I felt like I was nothing without it. People I don't even know care about me. One man stands out particularly, and he doesn't even know me. If only I had read his first PM sooner, but the little window didn't pop up earlier. I know that no guy is worth dying for, and that isn't just talking about my boyfriend.

One thing that I want to do in my letter to you today is say, yet again, goodbye. But this time, I want to say goodbye to something that is hurting me, so I can start to feel better. I know that I can't run away from things forever, so I have to grow up and stop doing the stupid shit that I always hate myself over later. I know that I drove my boyfriend away, and while it's too late to change that, at least I can work to fix it for the future. I wish to add a letter within this letter tonight (or this morning, rather) to my friend, Kyle.


Kyle,

So many thoughts wrack my brain as I write this and I am tempted to indulge in them. Why is this happening? Why aren't you in love with me anymore? How can I still feel for you, when you don't feel for me? I know that every question is futile now, because I've come to the realization that you've walked out and you can't come back through that door. Oh, every once in a while, you may enter my world through a window just to see how things are going, but despite all our talk today of "being friends" I just have a feeling that we'll become distant as the days and weeks progress.

I am sad that we're over, because I felt it coming for a long time but was to immature to approach it. I just turned away, because I was blinded by my own selfishness to see how much pain I was causing you. I am sorry for that with all of my soul. Though I am sad that as it stands, we are floating around in an awkward period of interim where I don't know what I feel for you, I am also upset because I know that I haven't been in love with you for a while either. I wanted to love you, because I wanted you to love me, but the passion was gone long before you were.

I will miss the way things used to be, and I hope that when we see each other, things won't be awkward. Well, of course they will be awkward, but I only pray that we can find some of what we once shared and turn it into a friendship. I think that I'm mostly just scared of being without you, because when you were with me, I always knew that someone was looking out for me. Now I know that I have to rely on myself for that.

I have shed my last tears over you, and I know that though I will still hurt, I'm starting to heal. (Wow, that only took a sleepless night of crying and one slit wrist, I move quickly, don't I?) Thank you for showing me that not all guys are bad, and that falling in love is worth all the heartache (though I'd have skipped it, had I had a choice, but oh well.) Thank you for everything you've done for me Kyle, and good luck in life. I hope to do the same. See you around.

Lauren



I feel, if not estatic, better for that. "Dr. Dennis" said something to me today that has made me change my mind about all of the talking. He told me, after running about twenty-five minutes over our hour, that I had done a good job. He stopped just short of telling me that he was proud, but I think it's safe to conclude that he was thinking it. We actually worked on a lot of stuff today, because I want to get better. I think I can do that now, for some reason. Maybe I just needed to be on my own to prove to myself that I can face my problems on my own.

Well, Brandon, this has been an eventfull, if not happy, day for me, and I am tired. Since it's almost two in the morning, I think I'm going to go to bed. Tomorrow is another day, as Scarlett O'Hara said. (Gosh, I really hated that movie. I'm sorry if you liked it, but I thought it was really long and a bit boring. Oh well.) Things will look better in the morning, if I hold my chin up so I can see the bigger picture. Goodnight Brandon.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

After two weeks, I'm finally free. Now that I'm on the outside, though things are more screwed up than ever. Can't explain at the moment, so I'll write back later.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Well, in the last few minutes, my life has spiralled downwards quickly. I am pregnant. Fuck. Oh, and my "friend" Kyle, is a little shit and has been writing about me on this site since I've been gone. Apparently I've been some kind of stupid moron to have fallen in love with him. I should've just left it alone. He isn't going to be a part in any of this pregnancy stuff. I've decided that I need somebody that I can trust to help me through all this shit. Apparently I can't trust him at all. More later.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Well, I've slept a little, gotten a huge weight lifted off of my heart, and I feel better. I have just been released from a psychiatric hospital this morning. The last ten days have been therapy, therapy, and more therapy. I feel a lot less suicidal, but I'm still hurting about a lot of things. Like, for the fact, that my enraged ex-boyfriend has now denied my credibility about the whole pregnancy. That's great. Oh well. I don't see any point in even having a friendship with someone who can't take responsibility for something like this. I've said goodbye to him for good, I think. I feel that not having anything to do with each other will be beneficial to us both. Well, writing is making me sad, so I'm going to go. I'll write later to tell you about the hospital.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Sorry to leave you hanging in the middle of things like that, but my parents shut off the internet for a while so I couldn't come out here. Ha, they underestimate my resourcefulness. I have so much to tell you about everything. Where to begin? Hmmm....

Oh, first off, I'm not pregnant! Whew. I told my mother, and she suggested we take another test, which came back positive. She was all set to call Kyle's parents and inform them, but I requested that she wait until we were absolutely sure. So, we made a trip out the the hospital, where they took a UA and some blood and came up with the answer. I wasn't pregnant, but stress had made me late. The stuff in all the meds I'd been on in the hospital had made the tests come back positive. What a huge relief.

Secondly, Kyle and I talked and things are pretty cool with us. We went to the movies with some friends yesterday, which was good. I feel better being friends with him than I do being his girlfriend, I think. I was more shocked and hurt than actually sad about us being broken up. Yah, but I'm getting over him, slowly. Things are definitly getting better in that area.

Oh yeah, I haven't told you about the inpatient experience yet, have I? Well, it all started because my mom came out to this site and read my journal, then flipped out about the last few entries (you know, the wrist cutting and everything.) Well, she dragged me to the ER for evaluation. (Evaluation, for those of you who don't know, is just a formality that they throw at you before locking you up so they don't seem heartless.)
Well, they all seemed to think I needed to be locked up. So that's what they did.

I made one friend out of the experience. Airman Thompson was one of the women who rode with me on the hour drive to the hospital. That hour seemed to take a millenia, yet it was over in the twinkling of an eye. The name of the hospital was Intermountain, but I think they should have called it Intercity. The only mountains around were a bazillion miles off, dotting the horizon. Yeah.

Well, I said a tearful goodbye to Airman Thompson and went inside with my mother (whom I was not speaking to for scandalizing my letters to you) and started processing. (Processing, for those of you who don't know, is where some nosy bitch asks you all sorts of personal questions in front of your mother and expects you to answer them.) Well, that was over none to soon, and we started off to the Adolescent Unit. At first glimpse, the broad hallway with it's trippy maroon carpet and plain wooden doors dotting the walls strategically didn't seem half bad. Oh, ignorance, how I weep for thee.

The Nurses' Station at the end of that hallway was brightly lit and occupied by two young women (a nurse and a psych tech) who promptly started me filling out papers that consisted of the same questions asked by the nosy bitch in processing. Well, they got filled out, and I let my mother hug me goodbye. Then she left, and I must admit, I wasn't sorry to see her go. I was so mad at her for doing that to me I couldn't even cry about it to myself. Grrrr! Anyway.

Then, after all the papers were filled out and the other patients (bedraggled looking youths with seemingly sunken faces and looks of pity towards me) had filed to their rooms, Laura (the psych tech) told me to go in the small office behind the Nurses' Station and get undressed for my skin check. That was a horrible experience that I never want to think about again. *Shudder*

Well, I have to leave you there for now, but the rest of that night was pretty interesting, so I'll pick back up next time. I have to go eat breakfast, 'cause I start work today! Yay! Want to hear something cruelly ironic? I got a job at the same grocery store as Kyle. Oh joy. I don't know, hopefully we won't see each other, and if we do, so what. I don't care anymore. I'm just tired of fighting the waves of hostility he's throwing at me. I think we're getting over that though. Who knows?

Oh, one last thing: I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean yesterday and it was the shit! Oh yeah! I know it's a kid movie, but it was freaking awesome! Yeah, well, having said that, I'd better go. It's great to be writing to you again.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Gosh, my job is kicking my ass. It's really hard, because there's so much physical labor. I won't ask for help unless I physically can not lift something, 'cause I'm not going to be thought of as the weakling. I'm starting to realize why we make so much more money than everyone else.

I've been hanging out with Kyle for a few days, but he's acting a little weird. He keeps emailing me, which he never does, and he called me and wanted to keep talking after his mom told him to get off. Strange and a bit confusing. Oh well.

Where did we leave off? Oh yeah, the first night. I had gotten into my room, which was pitch black so I had to stumble around. I hurriedly put on my turtle pajamas that I love so very much and heard a rustling behind me. I tried to ignore it and I got into my bed. The shuffling continued, but eventually it was accompanied by a voice. The voice belonged to a girl named Casie (KC). She had been in Intermountain four times already because she was a hypersexual self mutilator. Well. Apparently a lot of the rules there had been made because of things she tried to do. She was rumored by patients and staff to have tried to have sex with another patient in the bathroom. Weird.

My other roomate's name was Nadeane. She was a meth addict trying to get clean. Great, I'm rooming with a sex addict and a meth addict. Oh, little did I know that they would be two of the saner people on the unit. They dropped off into medicated blackness, whilst I lay awake wondering about the time.

I couldn't take it after a while, so I got up to go look. As soon as I reached the door, it was opened by Laura, the psych tech on duty. She told me the time, 10:30. I went back to my bed and things were okay for a while. I still didn't get to sleep, so after a while I got back up to see the time. This time, a man was halfway down the hall when I reached the door. It was 11:00. This went on for some time, and I couldn't figure out why people knew when I got up, for there were no cameras in the rooms. Then, I noticed two little red lights on the wall next to the door, and one on the ceiling. Sensors, brilliant.

I resigned myself to laying awake, but not getting up again. However, someone came in to check on me constantly throughout the night, and I would always inquire the time. I think I maybe slept an hour in the early morning, but that's the most. I was up and about by 6:30, much to the chagrin of my roomates.

I have to leave you there, 'cause my body hurts and cries out for IcyHot. Goodness that stuff smells like shit. It works though, so why complain? I'm off, but I'll write again later to continue my trip down psychiatric lane. Bye for now, Brandon.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I laughed, I loved
I prevailed, I failed
Crashed and burned
Kept on going
Fell into love
Who dropped me
Lost trust
Lost hope
Gained a friend
In myself
Smiled and cried
Almost died
But I'm still here
After a hell
Of a year

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Boring day. Watched TV all day and got online every five minutes. I don't know what's happening. I am starting to get over Kyle, but at the same time, I miss certain things about him. I miss holding his hand. That's the kicker, because it's something that you often overlook in a relationship, but when it's gone, you remember it. I miss hanging out and having fun. I miss kissing. Nothing else, just the way it feels to kiss somebody with such passion that everything else just falls away into the background. I miss writing silly emails with sexual inuendos that didn't really mean anything serious. God, I miss it.

I remember once, last winter, when we layed and talked on his bed with the lights off and candles lit. He kissed me in a way that made me feel utterly safe and secure and I let myself become saturated in him. That was the first time I told him I loved him, and I meant it with my entire being. Hearing him say it back lit up my entire world. There are nice memories, but I'm starting to realize that those times are over. I still have feelings for him, but I want him at least as a friend, so I'm trying to bury them inside. Oh well.

Somebody started a thread about me today. I don't know that I was mad about it or even mildly annoyed, I was just a little confused. They questioned the things that I write to you, which is funny because I've been blindly stupid enough to write the whole truth in these letters to you without regard to psychos out there. Ha, I laugh. Well, I think my response to their speculations was rather eloquent and I want to post it here:

To all:

I would just like the chance to stick up for myself, if you don't mind. I don't care if you take me seriously, but I'm the one living my life over here. You can think I'm pathetic, don't worry, I think enough bad things about myself to care. My suicide letters are true, well, the three that I've written were. I have tried to OD twice in the last two months, the last followed in a matter of days by me trying to slit my wrist. I did cut up, not across, for you who thought that was a funny thing to joke about. I have just gotten out of a psychiatric facility, and you know what? I'm feeling pretty good. Writing letters to Brandon helps me, because after a while, you stop thinking that other people are reading, and you write for yourself. Yes, Brandon was my therapist, for a while, but in my letters, he isn't just Brandon. He is an amalgam. He is Brandon, Kyle, Dano069, and all of the people that I know from my various ER trips. He is all the people I care about. My writing is not for you to believe or not believe, it is for me. I write, because I need to. I write because I don't want to hurt myself, and when I do end up doing it, writing helps me feel closer to those I love in a time of utter despair. I write because, for the last four years I've harbored a secret that has been killing me from the inside. I hope one day to be able to write it down, but who knows? I am still shaky on the new foundations I'm builiding for myself, but I'm trying. I don't need your criticism or your pity, I need your support. I'm trying to get better, here, and if you don't want to believe that I'm earnest with myself in my letters, then okay, but don't sit and speculate about whether or not I'm lying.

Lauren

Yeah. That pretty much sums up what I've been trying to tell you for a while. You have many faces, Brandon, and they are ever-changing. I am sorry to have kept it from you, but then, you are only in my mind, aren't you? Yes, you are.

I am feeling tragically poetic or something like that. I want to write, I want to sing sad songs, I want to read Othello. (Yes, I actually have read it, thank you.) How I wish that someone would become my Romeo, if you'll excuse the cliche, and favor me above the moon. Oh, trespass sweetly urged, give me my sin again. *Sigh*

My kitten has been very cuddly and cute. I wonder what he's scheming. There's always a hidden agenda with him. It's never very clear until you least expect it and then he starts begging for whatever he wants, thinking that all of the cuddle time is payment enough for what it is. Right. Silly cat, but the love of my life.

I know I haven't written about the inpatient experience in a little while, but I will. Just not right now. The next one will reveal our players, and the stage will be set for a comedic tragedy. Wow, I'm making a lot of references today. I think I'll stop. Yeah.

Well. I'm going to go mope around, trying to forget my lost love that keeps popping to the surface, much to my dismay. I'll write again when I'm done being so sappy. Goodnight, Brandon.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Closing Time

I'm listening to Semisonic right now along with other sad songs. I'm pathetic. I don't know what my problem is, really. I have been cleaning all day just to occupy my mind so I don't think about him. I'm not obsessed, it's just that writing about missing it made me miss it more. He's gone camping this weekend, which is great for him. I don't know, I'm starting to like being his friend a lot more than I originally did. Is this clingy? Is it needy? I hope not.

Do you know what I did today? I played Christmas Carols and danced around the house. It was great. I love Christmas, it makes my day better to be reminded of good memories of winter. Snowball fights, kisses in the snow, gingerbread houses made with someone you love, and let's not forget the eggnog. I love the stuff. Carols are the surest way to make me smile. Or cry, depending on how the wind blows. Sometimes (and not very often) I get sad thinking about Christmas, because I know that this Christmas won't be the same. I don't have Kyle to share it with and my brother is gone also. What has become of my life? *heavy sigh*

Okay, I have to get back to Intermountain before I put it away forever. After waking my roomates (not on purpose) I proceeded to bang around the room, waiting for 7:30 when, as I'd been informed, we were allowed to get up and do things. Well, 7:30 came, and I went out into the hallway. It turns out that you can't get up until 8:00. I learned this lesson well over the first few days. So, I went back into my room and sat around for half an hour. At 8:00, the nurse on duty (Sarah, who runs the unit) called us out for breakfast.

We gathered in the 'lounge' (same as the bedrooms, except with a TV and some couches instead of beds) to eat. Well, the trays looked revolting, and I wasn't very hungry anyway, so I opted to skip it. As the bedraggled inpatients from the night before stumbled into the lounge, they looked at me, judging, weighing, and apparently not finding anything interesting. They conversed with each other, but I couldn't find a right time to say anything.

Suddenly the words, "What are you in for?" reached my ears. Everyone was looking at me. Suicide, depression, anxiety, self-mutilation, PTS, take your pick. They all nodded as if they understood my entire life story to the detail, and I felt better. Then they began to unravel their individual stories to me. They go somewhat like this:

Chris: 13, from Maine (he's a long way from home, isn't he?), in for larseny, assault, and running from the cops. (I can't remember the term for that. Oh well) He stole cigarettes, broke a window, hit a cop (on accident) as he was running from them. He had a choice between inpatient facility and JDC. (Juvenille Detention Center) I think he made the right choice.

Scott: 16, from here (well, not my town, but close), in for depression and anger. He sat around and looked suicidal to his parents. I think he was bipolar, which probably didn't help matters. He was very smart, but kind of quiet. He ended up leaving on my second or third day, so I didn't get to know him very well.

Nadine: 17, from Washington, in for drugs. Drug of choice: Meth. She smoked it, she snorted it, but she never slammed it. She thought she was better than most of the rest of us, because she didn't have a problem. She was just a druggie. She wasn't crazy like the people who cut or attempted suicide or hear voices. (All of these applied to me, so I was a bit offended.) She was very fun to be around, but very catty sometimes.

Kerry: 17, from here, in for drugs. Drug of choice: Marijuana. On probation, though it would look better to his parole officer if he came in and proved that he was clean. He was quiet, a bit rude to some of the other patients. He highly resembled a Ralph Lauren model, but his attitude turned everyone off. It later came to the surface that he had authority issues also.

David: 12, from here, in for authority and anger issues. He had threatened his mother who, from the way he tells it, was a vindictive psycho bitch who only wanted to abuse him. Then he ran from the cops. He was pretty immature and he seemed to think that fighting with the staff would help him get out. It didn't. He was sent to CRC within a few days of my arrival. (CRC mean residential. Those are the kids that get to stay in the hospital for months. Fun.)

Casie: 15, from here, in for hypersexuality, self-mutilation. She lived at Hope House (an orphanage) and she had been caught doing something suggestive, but not inappropriate, and they threw her back in here. She said she'd only slept with 5 people, but she'd given head to more than she could count. I thought she was lying, but the staff confirmed it for me. She had been in three times already, this being her fourth visit. She had been in 18 days when I got there. She was really loud and opinionated, but a little immature at times.

Rick: 17, in for suicide attemts, self-mutilation, and law troubles that were never described. He had been in the state's care for two and a half year when I met him. He'd been in the hospital for about half of that time. When he got out, he was in handcuffs, headed for DJC. He was very sweet, if a little odd. His face twitched every once in a while, which made you think that he was slow, but he wasn't. He was very smart, but extremely quiet. He had to sleep in the QR (Quiet Room, the only room with a security camera) because he got mad and stabbed a healing wound with a pencil, thus reopening it. He also get into fights, but I never saw him even get very angry.

Well, these are the players for out opening act, and I'll set the stage soon, I promise. For now, I leave you with our cast to ponder. I'm off for now, party for a friend. I'll be back.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Just got back from a goodbye party for my friend Chris. It was totally unorganized, full of immature little boys who thought they could score with me in some demented way, and totally fun because of it all. We ate food, had a grape fight, had an ice fight, listened to a true scary story from this woman, and talked on the stage.

I was feeling really frustrated. I want to kiss. Not just anybody, though for a while I would've settled for anyone. I didn't, though, because I'm waiting for something great. Who knows what it'll be, but it'll come eventually, and when it does, I'll feel better for having waited. I don't want to have a rebound guy, because the thought always came to me as cruel to the other person (the rebound person.) What if they really liked you? Sad.

There was this guy at the party named Nick. Nick is a sort of goth. I don't know anything about gothism or whatever, so please don't be mad if I don't get it right. He wears black and has spiky jewlery and dies his hair red (like, fire engine red) and calls himself a goth. He is skinny and pale and funny and I like him. (Not as anything more than a friend.) We talked forever about everything: life, love, sex, moshing, rock and roll, etc. He started saying that he should go to the gym and get buff, and I had to squash his dreams. I told him to cherish himself the way he was, because lot's of girls go for guys that look like him, possibly more than the jocks. I know I would. (I didn't say that last part.) Well, he asked me inocently if I was attracted to him. I knew I had gotten myself into something that had to be killed, now. I laughed. That always seems to work. Thankfully it did.

King of Wishful Thinking

I'm listening to that song right now, and isn't it ironic? Why do I always find the perfect songs for the right times on the soundtrack of my life? Creepy how often that happens to me. I love it, though.

Well, I'm really sleepy, so I'm off, but I'll finish with the introductions at Intermountain next time, I promise. Thanks for listening.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Had a scary experience today that left me shaken and upset. I was driving for the first time in a semi-big city with my father, and we were doing good. I didn't kill us, and he didn't yell at me for mistakes. We went to the mall and he picked out dresses for me that were pretty cool and we bought awesome pants and had a great time together. It was really nice, because we don't bond like that very often. We ate at Marie Calanders, and headed of to look at sports stuff and electronics stores.

I was driving in a parking lot, getting read to park (obviously.) I was driving past an exit to the street when some moron came speeding into the parking lot at about 55 mph. My dad screamed and I slammed on the breaks. If I hadn't, that guy would've hit my car door and most likely would've killed me. He kept going after our near collision and sped up to the parking spacing right next to the store. I was shaking as I parked the car. My dad made sure I was alright before commanding me to stay in the car.

He left and I called my mother and almost started crying. (You may not think this a very scary experience, but for a first time, that wasn't the best thing to happen.) She told me to go into the store and make sure that things didn't get ugly. I didn't. If they were getting ugly, I didn't want to be there. My dad was gone for about fifteen minutes, and when he came back, he looked pissed. He grabbed the keys out of the ignition, walked over to the guy's car and keyed it. I mean, he fucked it up pretty badly from what I saw. This scared me way more than almost being hit.

My dad is a really nice guy, even though we disagree on many points. I have never seen him so angry and I certainly have never seen him do anything like that. He has always kept his violence on the inside, so I always assumed that he didn't have any. He and I talked about things and he described to me this youth that hated, hurt, and was quick to temper. Surprisingly, it was my father as a young man. I see him in a different light now. I don't know, I love him more for this, but I'm a little freaked out. My nice father has anger management issues buried deep. *Shudder*

Apparently, my dad had tried to talk to the guy, but he walked away from my dad. This didn't go over well. My father followed him into the store and tried again. The man turned his back on him twice before my dad started bitching him out. He used every explitive he could find to describe the man's parentage, his relative intelligence, and my father's overall opinion of the man's charachter. The man was an asshole, and started dragging me into it, trying to blame things on me, and my dad got crazy. He told the guy if he left the store, he would beat his ass. I think he would've, too, but the guy stayed in the store. Lucky for him, I say. My dad is a big guy.

Besides that, my day was okay. I woke up with eyes that were swollen shut and gunged over. Gross, huh? I was watching TV through slits when my dad came over and told me to put ice on them. It worked a bit, but they're still pretty disgusting, if not so puffy. We think it was an allergic reaction to a moisturizier that I've used twice, with the same effect both times. Stupid girl that I am, I used it again before we made this discovery. Hopefully, it won't happen again tomorrow. *Pray*

While I was writing about Nick last night, he got online and IMed me. He was like, do you like me? As more than a friend? I was taken aback, because he is a year younger than me. I know that that isn't supposed to matter, but I think it does. In my opinion, girls are more mature than boys anyway, so why go for guys with less maturity than the guys your age? This is why I went for Kyle, because (besides being gorgeously dorky and fun) he is a year older than me. He and I can match on a lot of levels. I think I hurt Nick, though, because I told him that I was still in love with somebody else (true) and I didn't want to start something I wasn't into fully (also true.) He was like, okay, and he got offline. Why do I attract younger guys, but can't seem to attract one my own age? *Sigh*

Okay, back to our stage. Intermountain is run with calculated movements. Every minute has to be scheduled and the schedule can not be changed. The schedule goes as follows:

8:00 am: wake up call and breakfast
9:00 am: goal group (where we sit and make positive goals for the day that pertain to our treatment)
9:30 am: therapeutic activities (where we stretch out for a long day full of sitting)
10:00 am: school (oh, I'll get to that later, just wait)
11:00 am: process group (group therapy with a sarcastic disbelieving man named John. I grew to love him for his sarcastic wit.)
12:15 pm: lunch
1:00 pm: school (yes, twice in one day, but I'll explain)
2:00 pm: social services group (group therapy with varying social workers on our various issues)
3:00 pm: therapeutic activities (this is not stretching, it's group therapy of a strange unorganized type)
4:00 pm: assignment time (they give you assignment packets like "Anger", "Suicide", "Assertiveness", "Authority", etc. and expect you to work on them)
5:15 pm: dinner
6:00 pm: more assignment time
6:30 pm: evening goal group (where we determine who has met their goals and who hasn't, who's done their assignments and who hasn't)
7:00 pm: free time/phone time (the time when we relax in the lounge, watch TV or a movie and when we can call our various friends [only the one's on our lists, mind you] and beg for help)
8:15 pm: level 1's go to bed (I'll explain levels in a minute)
9:00 pm: level 2's go to bed
9:30 pm: level 3's go to bed and lights out on the unit.

The schedule was followed to the second, well, not always. I began to resent some of the staff because they would leave us in our rooms for most of the group time (groups were shorter because of it) because they were doing the crossword puzzle together. Bitches, all of them. Grrr.

When you arrive on the unit, you are automatically on level 1. This means that you can't leave the unit until your "doctor" (issued psychiatrist) said you could eat in the cafeteria, you have to go to bed at 8:15, and you are under 15 minute seveilence. You have to finish copying the do's and don'ts of the ward and all the rules into a composition notebook that they give you as soon as you arrive. As soon as these to requirements are met, you are put on level 2.

As a level 2, you can eat in the cafeteria, you can stay up later (forty five minutes is nothing to scoff at when you're used to going to bed at, say eleven or later.) Getting to level 3 is a bit harder than level 2. To get to level 3, you have to work on your issues, do your assignments, show leadership and responsibility. It takes more than a few days to obtain this.

At level 3, you do not have to stay in your room during empty time, and you can be in the lounge during assignment time. You get to stay up, choose the movies, and lord it over everyone else. Some people didn't care about levels. I wasn't one of them.

I have to leave you there, but next time, I'll get to what actually happened, okay? I have to go do a little research on stalkers. Oooh, scary. Ha ha. Talk to you later.

Lauren

Level

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! I have bloody allergies to something. Damn it! I have been handling moldy fruit all day, and now I have allergies. I'm so mad at life in general. Well, I'm going to call Kyle and see how camping was, and then I'm going to bed. I'll write when I can see through the crap in my eyes again.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Today was a good day. Thought I'd start with that, because most of my letters have been dark and upsetting. Well, today was good. I looked great (well, I think I did) and I hung out with Kyle. We ate lunch, watched He Man (Oh my goodness, it's so stupid it's funny, but it's really corny and he's a dork for liking it, but I love that about him), and went to the movies. We saw Down With Love. It sucked ass, big time. So stupid, I wanted to cry. At one point, I asked Kyle to reach over and strangle me so I didn't have to watch anymore. You're thinking, why didn't we leave? I have no idea.

Kyle is a subject that confuses me beyond belief. I like him as a friend one moment, and then the next, he's the most attractive person I've ever known. I know that that just sucks for me, 'cause he doesn't like me. I get it, but it's just a force of habit, I suppose. But at the same time, sometimes it seems like he's flirting with me, and I don't know what that means. I'm doing better though, I think. I feel good about it, in a way, but sad in a way too. Oh well.

I haven't said anything else about the hospital for a while, because I'm starting to forget things that happened there. I only remember people and specific incidents. I can't remember what happened all day every day. I think I'm going to just tell you the things and people I remember, okay? It'll be easier that way.

My first day sucked ass. I had to eat in the lounge with Donovan (another guy that came in right before me for arguing with his parents) and David who didn't really talk to me. I had to stay in my room alone in all the empty time, which scared me, because I heard voices. Not like actually hearing them, but in my mind, as if I were thinking them. They scared the shit out of me. I didn't tell anyone though, 'cause I just wanted to get out of there.

Well, the day went on and we got around to taking evening meds and they started me on Rispridol. (antipsychotic) Apparently they gave me too much, because I sat down and then couldn't move my arms or legs to get up again. I proceeded to twitch uncontrollably on the floor and had to be half carried to my room by Laura and Chris (the night nurse, he's a prick and a half.) I was laying on my bed when Chris came back with this huge sarynge (sp?) and headed towards me. He told me to lay on my stomach and at this point I flipped out.

"You're not shoving that thing in my ass! Get away from me." *twitch twitch* I almost started crying and Laura told him to just do it in my arm, because obviously I had personal boundaries issues. Damn right I do, that's my ass damn it! Anyway, he gave it to me in my shoulder muscle and left me alone with Laura.They had given me Benadryl to knock me out because on top of my EPS (bad reaction basically) I hadn't slept the night before either. Thanks, guys.

Well, the stuff worked really fast and two minutes later I'm laying, again unable to move my body, but with a fantastic floaty feeling. My body screamed sleep, but my eyes wouldn't close. It was a great trip, until Chris came and ruined it. He told me that my parents were there to see me. My dad hadn't come before, and he wanted to hug me or whatever. I said no, partially because I was still angry, and partially because I didn't want them to see me like that. Chris kept telling me how mean that was and that I should just go say hello, for God's sake. I kept saying no thanks and he kept bothering until Laura finally told him to go away, because obviously I didn't want to see them right then. Thank you Laura.

I barely stumbled to my shelf to grab my pajamas and fall into bed before I was out. I mean, black out city baby. I didn't wake up at all and when Nadeane and Casie came in to go to bed, they ran to go get Chris because they thought I wasn't breathing. It was a dark, dreamless sleep that I couldn't wake up from, even when the guy came to take out vitals early the next morning. They wrote "refused" on my vitals sheet, the bastards. I didn't refuse, I didn't even know he was there. Screw them and their vitals sheet.

I have to remember what happened after that, and I'll tell you when I do, but for now, I'm going to go ponder some things. I'll write soon, Brandon. I didn't tell you, but I missed you a lot while I was in the hospital. I'm glad to have you back.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Back to the hospital. after breakfast and morning goal group, I headed off to school with the rest of the patients. I had gone the day before, but all we did was watch My Big Fat Greek Wedding and drink juice. It was cool. Well, that day I got to see what school was really like. We read a children's story. Out loud. It was about loving ourselves or some crap like that. I was shocked and disturbed. The rest of school pretty much went like that. We did so many feel better assignments I wanted to vomit. Don't call that school, call it group therapy disguised as something else.

After "school," We went back to the unit, where I sat in my room until process group. Well, I missed the first part of process group because I was in seeing "my doctor." He let me off UR, gave the okay for me to have an electric razor (my legs were super hairy, and I wasn't going to last very much longer before freaking out about it), and lowered the dose of my meds. It was very nice of him.

Anyway, I got into process group and Chris was talking about his run from the "pigs" as everyone there called cops. John, the group leader, called bullshit after a lot of the things Chris said and he laughed and made sarcastic remarks. Eventually I came to like this, but on the first group with him, I was a little afraid to say anything. I just sat and took in the fun of group therapy being had around me. It was great.

After process group, we headed to our rooms in the empty time and then went to lunch which was actually really good fresh, as opposed to on a warming tray (nasty soggy food.) I sat and looked only at the people that sat at my table, because we weren't allowed to look at, point at, or talk to the kids in CRC. I don't know why, but oh well. We talked and ate and had a great time. I fell in love with the cafeteria's pink lemonade that day. Yumm.

After lunch we had, oh joy, more school. Won't even go into it. Then we had therapeutic activities with Darren, our bitch group leader. He didn't start out as a bitch, but he became one. We talked about nothing in particular for the hour of group, but one thing sticks in my mind above all else. Darren said that if we didn't open up on our own, the staff pointed you out and said basically "Go, get him/her." So, if we don't crack on our own, the broke us. Oh, was this a huge step backwards in the Lauren behaving plan. I wouldn't be broken by anyone, I would fight it as hard as I could. Screw them.

We had social services group then, which I missed because, thank the sweet Jesus that I pray to, "Dr. Dennis" came to see me. I almost cried when I saw him. I was so sure that he'd come to spring me out. He hadn't. I was sad. We had a really good talk and he made fun of the hospital and it cheered me up beyond belief. He was sad that I had almost started to open up to him about things and then this shit happened. Oh well, nothing we can do about it now, I said. I was upset when he left, but on the inside because I didn't want him to think I cared.

After process group, we had an hour of assignment time. I was working on "Abuse." Isn't that lovely. I didn't want to do it, but I figured that if I bullshat my way through it, I'd be okay. I was wrong. I kept working on the fucking abuse packet the entire time I was there. I just wanted them to leave me alone after a while, so I refused to do anything with it. It was none of their damn business. Jeez.

Dinner at 5:15 and then evening goal group. Boring. We went outside to the little enclosed playground after goal group and I swang. It was great fun. We went inside after a while, and I used the phone to call Kyle. Mistake number one. I was trying to just talk to him, but apparently I crossed the line somewhere by saying that I missed him. Friends can miss each other. Jeez. He just laughed it off and didn't say anything. Ouch.

I went to bed feeling pretty shitty after that, but the worst part of the night was yet to come. I'll leave that for another time, though.Yep, that's what I remember for now, but I'll look through my journal and see what I can find.

I have a a few pretty good days lately. Yesterday, Kyle came over after I finished babysitting in the morning, and we hung out for a while, talking, playing with my cat and watching home movies from the past couple of years. We popped in the choir concert from this year, and suddenly my brother was singing. I didn't realize how much I missed him until just then and I started crying. Only a little, but enough for Kyle to look over at me and say "Hey, don't cry, he's coming back." He said it with compassion and concern. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't.

We went to Walmart and looked around for a few minutes until he realized that the ATM was broken and he needed money to buy a phone card for his cell phone. So, we headed back out into the 108 degree sunshine and got into his hot ass car (and I don't meant that it looks good) and drove to the bank. I was sweating and it was horrible. Ha ha. When we got back to Walmart, we went into the food thingy and got ICEEs. They were fabulous, but I couldn't drink about half of it, because I got brain freeze. We sat at our table and talked for a while before deciding to get up and go buy things. We wandered aimlessly over to the phones and he got his phone card. I made us stop at the baby isle, the pet isle, the tupperware isle (don't ask me why.) We laughed and made fun of each other and it was spectacular.

After he'd bought his card, he wanted to get something to eat, so we headed back to the food place and both got cheeseburgers. We ate and threw fries at each other and talked and laughed. We sat there for a long time before we decided to go home. Well, to my home anyway. He was coming over to watch Final Destination 2. We'd seen it together at the theater, but we wanted to see it again. It was still as good as the first time, I noticed. Kyle kept seemingly flirting with me, but I don't know what that's supposed to mean. He has that kind of personality, so I didn't look too much into it.

He went home and I got online to look at things. He got online and we talked about things for hours. It was really nice. I got off earlier than usual and went to bed, because I was tired, but it was still fun. All in all, it was a great day. I hope that things keep going this well. With that happy note, I leave you for now, because I have to work today (yuck) and I have to get dressed. Bye for now.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

What's up? I just wanted to write you a quick note telling you that I think I've broken my spinal column due to the heavy lifting of potatoes and such. Why am I sitting here typing to you if my back is broken you ask? It's a miracle.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Life is so confusing. Kyle came over yesterday while I was babysitting at my house to hang out. When the kids left, he stayed and we played cards and talked about things between us and whatnot. He said that he didn't want to be in a relationship right now. That's cool. But then he said he had feelings for me. Okay. Then he kissed me. Hold up. What the hell does that mean? I mean, I can take having to get over him, but it hurts a lot more to go through this kind of stuff only to find out the he'll never want to be in a relationship with me. I'm so confused.

Sorry that this is so short, I'll write more later. Right now I have a doctor's appointment to get on the pill. Yes, parents, that's going to do a lot of good now that we're BROKEN UP. They're horribly intelligent, aren't they?

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

I know that I haven't written about anything except for Kyle lately, and I'm sorry. You're probably really sick of him. Me too. But, for now, I have a few last things to say on the subject and then I'm putting it away. I know that eventually I'll probably say something, but not anytime soon if I can help it.

Everyone was right about him. He was just using me as a momentary thing. He totally led me on after I had finally started to get over him. He told me he had "genuine feelings" for me, when he really ment that he wanted a quick whatever and then to be able to leave again. He kissed me the other night, kissed me like he really meant it, and then last night he said all this shit about how I should "move on, because he doesn't want a relationship right now." What a stupid fuck.

You know what, though? I am going to move on. I don't need someone like him to drag me along without the intent to actually care about me. He is just a pathetic jerk. He is going to find it's a hard world for people like him, I think. One day, he'll do it to somebody else, and they're going to go psycho. I hope so, at least. I am not mad at him, really. I pity him more than anything. He feels bad about it, and he should. I hope the guilt eats away at his soul. I'm not going to be bothered by it anymore though. I've got my own life to lead.

Having said that, I'm going to go "move on" somewhere. Sorry if this letter sounds mean hearted because I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just hurt or whatever, and I'm sick of stupid pricks like him screwing with my life. I think I'm going to swear off guys for a while. They're too much fucking trouble.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Work was okay today. I'm starting to get just a little bit sick of my job, though. It's not like it's very hard, or that the people I work with are mean or anything. It's just very repetative. I do the same things over and over and over again for five or six hours. Boring. Stock the salads, watch people mess them up. Stock apples, etc. watch people mess them up. I hate people so very much sometimes. *mock scowls of doom*

I know that I've been writing pretty happy things lately, but I have been getting really sad again. I think about cutting or whatever, and it has regained a lot of its appeal. I don't think I could do it now, because I would be letting everyone down. I'd be letting go of everything that I've gained in the last couple of weeks. Oh, but how I long to just let go of it all.

I've been really sad for a little bit, but I haven't really done anything about it. Since getting out of the hospital, I have kind of learned to put on a happy face, and most of the time it makes me happier to act happy. Not lately. I am not totally depressed, but a part of me feels like it's dying. I want to cry, but I can't for fear of ridicule. I have been brushing away all negative feelings and replacing them with positive and therefor lost the ability to cry. I can't do it, and I just need to weep for all the injustices of the my world. I have that lump in the back of my throat that you get just before you cry, but the tears won't come.

I know, you're probably thinking, what a crybaby (or noncrybaby, if you think about it) and I'm not trying to be whiny. I just don't know what to do anymore. I want to hurt and cut and cry and be sad and angry. I want to get over things that are hurting me and be okay later. I want to fast forward to the part where I'm truly happy again. I just wish I'd let myself let go of things and not look back.

It's times like these that I miss my brother. He has almost always been able to make me feel good when I feel really horrible. I lost my last scrap of patience with my bitch computer teacher last January and I walked out on his final. I was so mad at myself for losing my temper and probably failing the class that I spent the whole day crying and freaking out. When I saw my brother after school, he looked at me and hugged me tight. He took me to get ice cream.

The thing that get to me the most about that day was a song that he played especially for me. It was Rainy Dayz (Mary J. Blige and Ja Rule) and he sang for me in his beautiful tenor. The words fit the situation perfectly:

It's just those rainy days
Spend a lifetime tryin' to wash away
Until the sun comes out and shines again
Smile for me, smile for me

I loved him more that day then I ever had before. He finally fell into the big brother role. I loved him, and I finally found the acceptance and love that I'd been seeking since childhood. He became one of my best friends. I miss him so much right now I don't know what to do. He would know what to do about everything, I know he would. Or maybe I'm just telling myself that so I don't have to believe that I'm going to be lost until I can find the answers myself.

I can be angry and I can be upset, but I can't let anyone see how hurt I am on the inside. It's easy to be pissed off and say I'm going to get over everything, but doing it is a lot harder than I first thought it would be. Everything reminds me of him or us or things that we did together and I just want to scream. Jesus, why do I keep getting myself into these messes? God.

I am going to go now, and stop bitching about things that can't be changed. I'm sorry if I've bored you with my ramblings. I'm going to go try to get happy.

Lauren

 

[Unknown Soul]

Brandon,

Can't sleep. Can't sleep. I can't fucking sleep. I need a lobotomy. I want to get the part of me that remembers him extracted. Why am I so sad when I know that he's an asshole with screwed up priorites? I don't know. I'm writing because I don't want to cut and I know that I will if I don't do something to take my mind off of it. I am so stupid. Jesus. What's happening to me? I can't figure it out. I feel like a leper. Why does everyone find me so unappealing? I try to like myself, but sometimes it's hard to do because it seems that everyone just wants to be away from me. I wish I could be away from me for a while. I feel like such a jerk. Oh well. Life goes on, slowly and painfully and full of shit. Can't sleep. I just want to sleep. I can't take this anymore. Darkness is welcome in my world. A few too many sleeping pills before bedtime and it's all going to be over. I don't think I can, though, because I'm too sad to kill myself tonight. Tomorrow may be better. I hope so....

Lauren