Nothing Behind The Madness

o n e

help, I have done it, again
and, the worse part is,
there's no one else to blame
***

~ o n e ~

I guess it was their stares that intimidated me more than anything.

Maybe it's because I'm such a stereotype.

If, in fact, you are perfectly healthy, mentally, please do something for me. Picture someone in your mind who is quite the opposite.

Perhaps you think of someone who has long, messy black hair, that hangs over their face, and is abnormally skinny, and has dark circles under their eyes, which indicates they haven't slept in days.

That's me.

I think maybe I offend them.

Why on earth would I not offend them? I'd be quite offended too, if I were them.

Or maybe they're just surprised to see someone new. The nurse told me they don't get new patients often.

Yeah, that's probably it. Hopefully.

"Ah, yes, hello dear, I've been expecting you." A man, who I strongly suspected was the doctor spoke with a grin. "Go ahead, take any empty seat."

I nodded before taking a seat next to a curvy girl with wavy brown hair that went to the middle of her back. Her eyes were glued on me the whole time, but so was everyone else's.

"Now, I know that you all know the drill, but since we have someone new, I will explain." The mans eyes landed on me. "Basically, we'll go around the circle, you'll state your name, age, diagnosis, and your progress."

I flicked up an eyebrow. "Progress?"

A skinny guy with shaggy black hair cleared his throat. We all looked at him. "Basically how you're doing. What landed you in here, and if you've gotten better."

I nodded. "Okay, so let's start with you." The man looked at a small blonde girl.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat before clearing her throat. Her eyes were a shade of blue you only saw in the midnight sky on a perfectly clear night and her hair was literally almost white. The contrast was incredible.

"Uhh, my name's Arden, I'm fifteen." I raised eyebrows. She looks more like eleven. "And I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was four. I had night terrors almost every night from the time I was six. I was admitted in here because of them, I guess. I was ten. They used to be so bad, like every night, but now they only happen probably once a week. So I'm doing good, I guess ." She forced a smile before looking down at her lap, fidgeting with a hole in her skinny jeans.

"Well, I'm Hendrix." The kid with a buzz cut, who sat next to Arden, spoke. "I'm seventeen. I was diagnosed with anger issues when I was ten. My stay here is court-ordered, and I've been here for three years. I guess I haven't come that far along. I mean, I still get pissed off at the smallest things, but now I'm learning to control it. I get it's not something I can fix, but I would like to have made some progress within three years, so..."

It was then time for a little girl to speak. And when I say little, I mean, like probably nine or ten years old.

"Uhm," her voice quivered, "my name's Makalah. I'm eleven." Close enough. "I have voices in my head, and they've been there as long I can remember. Mommy thought I just had imaginary friends, but the doctor says I have schiz- schizo-schizo-"

The boy sitting next to me helped her. "Schizophrenia, sweetie." He said softly to Makalah.

"Yeah, that." Makalah pointed at him. "They scare me sometimes, but the medicine makes them be quiet."

I raised my eyebrows. Damn. I don't know what's worse, something so small and pure having to take anti-depressants, or something so small and pure being in an endless battle with her mind.

They cycle continued. There was a girl named Mia who was thirteen, and has bulimia, a boy named Elias, who was seven, and has insomnia, and a boy named Jaylin, who was twenty, and is suicidal. Then it was me.

"Uhm, I'm Kennedy, I'm nineteen, and I was diagnosed with insomnia when I was eight, then bipolar disorder when I was fifteen. Then anorexia two months ago. Obviously this is my first day here, so I can't really tell you the progress that I've made..." I veered off toward the end.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Well, can you at least tell us how you've progressed overall?"

"Like, since I was diagnosed?" I raised an eyebrow, scratching my arm. He nodded. I thought. "Um, well, I still can't sleep for shit, and I'm still very much bipolar, and I'm only o pretty shitty, I guess."

Someone chuckled. I think it may have been Jaylin, but I'm not sure.

"Well, that's nice." The doctor responded in a questioning tone. "Moving on."

I chuckled. I couldn't even help it. No one heard me, though. Thankfully.

There were two more girls, and another boy, before everyone had finished talking about themselves.

"Alright everyone, same time next week, see you then. Have a good lunch." The doctor dismissed us, while scribbling on his clipboard.

Not knowing where to go, I followed everyone else, but still kept my distance.