Crazy? If You Say So.

Entries 1-5

Day Zero,
What the hell? What is this? What am I supposed to do with this? Why would they hand this to me? No offense, to you, you book, thing. Unless you're a doctor's log or something. However I seriously doubt that. I just have no idea what to do with you, or what you're for. So for now, and don't get mad at me, but for now, I'm just gonna keep track of my days, and write a little note, or maybe a long rant. Who knows with me?
You see, maybe I don't know what to do with you because you're so plain. Literally, on the outside, you're just a brown leather cover, front and back. Yes I know, "Don't judge a book by it's cover." Well guess what? I'm judging you, because you're so plain and blank, except for what I've written so far. Which isn't much by the way, as you can probably see. What are you? What am I supposed to do with you? They just handed you to me, and nothing more. Nothing was said about this leather book. Literally, while checking me in, and making sure all of my information was correct, they handed me this, along with a pillow, and they escorted me to a waiting room. Maybe they knew I would immediately start looking through you, and trying to see what you are. Maybe this is an experiment to see how patient I am, and how curious I am. Maybe they thought I would just start writing in you. Well, if they did think that, they weren't wrong. That is what I'm doing right now.... I had the opportunity for a pun and I didn't take it. What is wrong with me? Oh dear.... Maybe I do belong here....
Well, I guess that's why I would be here. Apparently, there is something wrong with me, and I need to be contained. Like some wild animal being taken into captivity, to be placed in the zoo, because they're getting "endangered." I was involuntarily admitted into this place, this cage. As I'm pretty sure you can figure out that I don't want to be here, and obviously this wasn't my idea. I'm regretting this, I'm regretting my life, well not really, but I do like being dramatic, and I certainly regret being brought here. You know there comes a time in everyone's life where they end up regretting a few things they did, or didn't do. One of mine is not fighting hard enough, so that I wouldn't have ended up in this ridiculous place, that I have no need for. Seriously, like what am I supposed to do here, attend group therapy and tell everyone my sob story? Yeah, sure, good luck with that one, hot-shots. There's no way that could end badly. Please notice the sarcasm. It'd make both of our lives easier, if you could quickly catch on to when I'm being particularly sarcastic, and overly dramatic. I have a tendency to do both very frequently.
You know what else? I don't even fully know why I'm here. The men in white just came into my home and took me away, while my so called mother was waving goodbye. Like, excuse you. I mean yeah okay, maybe I shouldn't have thrown water at my sister while screaming, "Be gone you dreadful witch!" But I mean who's to say whether or not she deserved it? Ha! I'm totally kidding you, I didn't do that. I mean, actually, I wish I did. My sister does deserve it, believe me she does. The men in white did however grab me while I was sitting in my kitchen sink. That isn't a joke, I'm deadly serious, although that is a story for another time, or never, maybe. Who knows? Certainly not me. I'm miss "insane" apparently. Oh yeah I forgot to tell you, I was involuntarily admitted into a mental hospital. Isn't that just dandy? Apparently, I'm a danger to this society, and to myself, and I need to be contained, like put in a cage and destined to spend the rest of my life there. Well, it's only my problem if I'm concerned, and I couldn't be bothered if the way I behave is disturbing to others. It's not like I've intentionally hurt anyone. It's not like I've set anyone on fire, or shaved any heads, or broken a bone in another person's body, or murdered anyone. No laws have been broken by this girl, who is writing to you. Well not yet anyway. Who knows with me? I could be a dormant pyromaniac, just waiting to be set free.
I probably shouldn't write, or say things like that. This thing will most likely be monitored. By who though, that is the real question. Probably by the psychiatrist. I mean, who else would it be? That random guard in the corner making sure none of the patients get too wild. I don't think so. The little old lady at the counter still checking me in? Like just sign the name and be done with it. I don't understand, why is this process taking so long? What more is there to do? They couldn't have done this earlier? I just would have had to sign in, get my stuff to my assigned room, and badda bing badda boom we're done. There, as easy as pie. Or is it pi? These are the questions that disturb me most, and they shall be answered. Only in their own time, you can't rush stuff like that. Says the impatient mental patient that is myself. That's fun to say, "impatient mental patient that is myself."
Look, I would just like to be put into the room where I'm going to be staying, for however long, and just relax. I lead a very stressful life, and honestly, I just want to sleep. It actually feels like I haven't fallen asleep in days, actually maybe I haven't slept. I can't remember falling asleep. Well that's a problem, isn't it?. I also haven't eaten since this morning at around three. Yes, three, before the sun rises. It was actually quite beautiful. I had a banana, cereal, yogurt, and a pop-tart. It all tasted like paradise. Oh I'm gonna miss eating at three in the morning. Not really, but still. It's the thought that counts. Whoever reads this is going to have a ton of questions. Especially if I keep doing this.
Oh, I gotta go, apparently, I need to be shown around this place, so I don't wander into the wrong room or anything, or get lost. From what I've seen, these hallways are like 20 feet long. That may be an exaggeration but I don't exactly carry a ruler with me everywhere I go.

Day One,
You know there comes a time in everyone's life where they end up regretting something they did, or didn't do. Mine is not fighting hard enough, so that I wouldn't have ended up in this ridiculous place. There's only so much you can do though. I have no clue why, but I can't believe I'm here. I've unpacked the few outfits I brought with me, (which I probably won't be able to wear), and now there's nothing more to do. Except for write in you, journal. I guess you'll be my entertainment. You know they took away my laptop, I guess no technology, because they said I wouldn't need my phone, and I bet if they had found my iPod they would've taken that as well. Doesn't matter though, there's no wi-fi, so it's only good for music; which I guess will come in handy to help me sleep.
You know what else? I don't even fully know why I'm here. The men in white just came into my home and took me, while my so called mother was waving goodbye. Like, excuse you. I mean yeah okay, maybe I shouldn't have thrown water at my sister while screaming, "Be gone you dreadful witch!" But I mean who's to say whether or not she deserved it? Ha! I'm totally kidding you, I didn't do that. I mean, actually, I wish I did. My sister does deserve it, believe me she does. The men in white did however grab me while I was sitting in my kitchen sink. That isn't a joke, I'm deadly serious, although that is a story for another time, or never, maybe. Who knows? Certainly not me. I'm miss "insane" apparently. Can I let you in on a secret? I actually don't mind being here, I mean as long as they have alright food, and I don't get beaten up, I'm pretty sure I'll be good. Maybe I am a little crazy, I mean any "sane" person wouldn't want to be here. Maybe if you knew, if they knew, then they'd understand. But they don't know, and they never will.
Wait, I'm just now realizing how weird this is, they gave me you, to write in, but didn't say what for, or what to write. So I could be doing this totally wrong, maybe you aren't a journal. Maybe I'm supposed to catalog my medications or my state of sanity or whatever. All I know is that I'm here, I have you (which I'm not too fond of), and I'm supposed to be seeing the counselor/therapist/psychiatrist guy. Seriously, this guy does so much here for everyone I might as well just call him wizard. Actually, I think I will. Oh well, I'm off to see the Wizard now I guess. So uh, bye?