Dear you,
I've had some time to myself in my second hospitalization(in a year) and I find myself thinking about isolation again. It's the end of the school year, eight days left to be exact. And I'm not so worried about that but more of the rusty sleep I get. The way my mind is or isn't working that allows me to continue getting older. Camp. Often a metaphor but in this instance I mean I'm truly going to a summer camp. I've gone to this camp every summer for the past two years and I've wished not to go back but I have no choice. I can shout loudly into a vast empty space of nothingness and that's the closest I'll get to being heard. I am ugly. I see myself as ugly. The people at this camp won't be ugly. It'll be the same thing it was these last two summers; small depths in the pit of my stomach every time my anxious thinking kicks in or I feel unattractive. I will hide and cry and wish and fail and it will be the same experience it always is. I don't think my mother realizes this. I don't think anyone realizes this. I will have no outlet either, so when sorrow fills my veins I will have no way to let it out. What if I have an episode? What if I want to die again? What if I get sad? Who am I kidding.
