I spent three weeks in a mental hospital and what I discovered there I feel like should be put into words.
We are not who you think we are.
The boy with turrets told the funniest jokes.
The girl who raked her nails up and down her skin could create the exquisite drawings.
The girl who abused drugs had the wisest soul.
The boy with schizophrenia had the biggest heart.
The girl who tried to kill herself told the boy with insomnia stories to help lure him to sleep.
The boy who wanted to kill himself had the deepest passion for cooking.
The girl with slits and scars all over her body dried my tears and told me I was beautiful.
The boy with anger issues gave the warmest hugs.
The girl with bulimia told everyone everyday that they looked beautiful in their bodies.
The boy who was a compulsive liar told us that he wanted us all to get better, and that he was for once telling the truth.
The girl who almost drank herself to death stood up for anyone that felt they were feeling bullied.
The boy with social anxiety made sure nobody sat alone at meals.
We are not who you think we are.
