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Chapter 1: Why I'm Here

Blacking out on stage is never fun, especially when you end up in the hospital and are discovered to have been self-harming and abusing painkillers.

This was my first journal entry when I arrived at the rehab center, or as my mother calls it, my home for a while.

The minute I entered the facility, I was put under suicide watch. I wasn't suicidal, I just used cutting and painkillers to release the pain. I didn't want to end my life, I just used those two pathways to end momentary suffering.

Maybe I should rewind to how I ended up here in the first place. It might help you understand.

About six weeks ago, I was performing at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, my hometown. It was the second to last stop on the North American leg of my tour. My day had not been off to a good start. My favorite hot pink electric guitar had gotten damaged in the travel from Seattle to Los Angeles, and it would take a week to fix it. The guitar was my prized possession, and I was not taking the damage to it well.

My tour manager, Shane, eventually calmed me down and explained it would be an easy fix, just not in time for tonight. I panicked over not having my lucky guitar with me and escaped to my bus to down a few OxyContin.

After I swallowed the little 20 mg pink pills, I retreated to my bus bathroom and grabbed my razor out of a little locked box I kept hidden in the back of the drawer.

I set the razor blade on the counter with a clink and looked up at myself in the mirror. Beneath the heavy amount of foundation lay dark purple circles from insomnia and the pills. I made sure to hide my secrets well, so they would stay my secrets.

I picked up the blade and admired my reflection in the shiny metal. I had two shows left, then I could retreat back to my LA home and wallow in self-pity without having to fake a smile for twenty thousand fans every other night.

I took the edge of the cool metal between my right index finger and thumb before digging it into a white scar on my left wrist.

When every scar turned white, I took the chance to get out my pain and reopen the wound.

I watched the blood drip from the two inch cut I produced and let it fall down the edges of the small porcelain sink. I removed the blade from my skin and ran it under the water to wash my blood away, along with the red trail down the sink.

I dried the blade off with a soft towel and placed it back in its box before locking it away to its home.

I downed two more OxyContin before I shut the bathroom light off and headed off to soundcheck.

You must be getting bored. Let me fast forward to the concert.

I was on my fifth song, Scars, when I started to feel a bit woozy. I continued on with my singing and checked my knees to make sure they weren't locked. I had the tendency to do that at various moments. My knees were okay, so I continued on with my song.

Before I knew it, everything went black, and I heard the screams of all eighteen thousand people in the arena.

I later came to find out the OxyContin, mixed with the vodka drink I ingested with breakfast, had a bad reaction together and caused me to pass out. The doctors found my fresh cut and white scars, along with the immense amount of Oxy and Vicodin in my system and admitted me into rehab.

And that leads me back here. You may be wondering how I ended up this way. What makes me self-mutilate? What makes me down painkillers that could ruin my whole neuro-system. Well, I can't tell you yet. You don't know enough about me to understand my whole story, so I'm going to tell you the story I told during my first group therapy session.

~❀~

"Romee, it's your turn to speak. Since you're new, we'll let you introduce yourself to everyone in the group. Start whenever you please," Dr. Mercer said with a small smile. She knew who I was, at least who People magazine told her I was.Like the rest of the world, she had no idea who I really was.

"Well, my name is Romee Harper, as most of you who own a radio know. I was born and raised in Los Angeles, California by my mother and father. I made it big right out of high school and got signed to my first record label. Over the course of college, I wrote and produced my first album, Painkiller. When I graduated, the record label dropped my album, and it became a number one hit. My first single, Scars, was on the Billboard Top 100 as number one for ten weeks in a row." I took a pause to catch my breath and to look around at everyone. They all seemed astonished I was sharing so much about myself.

Before I could continue, a man with day-old scruff and dark brown, nearly black hair chimed in. "How about you tell us what's not on your Wikipedia page, honey," He snapped, looking bored.

He had a good point, so I continued on without all the basic boring details.

"I am here because I love OxyContin, Vicodin, and taking a shiny razor blade into my wrist." Dr. Mercer looked shocked at my honesty, but I continued with ease.

"All three take away my pain and that's why I love them. No therapist or anti-depression medication could help. Oxy helps me forget about everything and helps me focus on my music. Vicodin brings me a great high that keeps me going every morning, and cutting just lets the pain drip out of me. I would be continuing my daily habits if I didn't black out on stage last night. That's my story. Bet you couldn't get that on my Wikipedia page," I said as I shot a look at the man who looked almost familiar to me.

"Alright," Dr. Mercer said after a few moments of shocked silence. "We'll pick up another group session this afternoon. You have two hours of free time before lunch. Feel free to socialize or wind down in your rooms," She said with a faked smile before leaving the room.

I was headed for the door when I felt a hand grasp onto my wrist and felt a thumb press into the fresh scar.

"Hey Miss Rockstar, you and I are more alike than you think. I think we should get to know each other better and get the fuck out of this place," The voice said. I spun around and recognized the voice I'd been racking my brain to remember since he spat about my tell-all.

I was met with the face of Adam Levine, for the second time.