This is a work of fiction, that does deal with certain depression issues. All people included in this story are figments of my imagination.
Any mistakes are my fault, my editor did the best she could with what she had.
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My scars are starting to fade; I feel lost without them. It has been 9 months, 3 days, and 14 hours since the last time I cut myself. If I am good, they will let me out of here and I can go on living my life that they never cared about anyway; that is, until the neighbor walked in on me changing shirts at one of their famous backyard parties. Then my life became their problem all of a sudden. 'Great, thanks a lot Betty'; you know I never did care for you much. You were always too nosy for my taste. All I wanted was a shower, and you decided my parents should "fix" me. I had just turned 18, so legally I am literally not 'their problem any more'; that is how they phrased it, but I guess the Monday moms had a different idea. So here I am staring at the same four white walls every day for the last 9 months, 3 day,s and 14 hours. They say that on Wednesday, I could possibly go home if there are no "incidents." I was excited at the possibility of breaking free of this place, but the only people who have made me feel like I belong anywhere are stuck here for longer. Jade is my best friend, the only real friend I have ever had up until now; sad huh? She is cute in that 'girl next door gone bad' kind of way. She was exiled here for an eating disorder. Her parents found her after dinner passed out in the bathroom. They let it go when she claimed food poisoning until they started to see the pattern. Every time she ate she would go to the bathroom shortly after and then she would be in there for about 20 minutes. But that's her story, and I will let her tell it. The next couple of days went by in a blur the possibility of going home clouded my mind with what-ifs. What if they decide to be the parents they never were and apologize for all the wrong doings? What if they toss me out on the way home and I have no where to go and no money? What if I am "cured" ;What do I do to feel normal the? What if I'm not and they find out, will they put me away for good? Out of sight, out of mind, that's moms motto for life. All of this was going through my head and they expected me to make it out without a scratch. What will slow the thoughts; how will I catch my breath? Jade says my whole problem is that I over think things, over analyze my day-to-day life to the point where I cant see the big picture because I'm looking too hard at the details.
Wednesday is finally here and my parents put on a great show for the doctors. They only want what is best for me, blah blah blah. I stood up straight, made sure my hair was spiked just right, wore a short sleeve shirt for the first time in 3 years, and put on my happiest face. I didn't know what was in store for me on the outside, but I had to get out of here. Three hours of non-stop talking and the doctor was satisfied I was "cured" and sent me home with a list of medications I knew I would never take. I am a strong willed person and if I can make it 9 months then I can overcome this. I wont let this be my crutch any longer. On the way home we got ice cream. The last time I was in the car with them I was 8 and I wanted ice cream, so they obviously assumed I still did. We rode in silence, ate in silence, none of us knowing what to say. It wasn't until we got home that they dropped the bomb.
"We feel it would be in your best interest for you to go stay with your grandfather down south. You know give you a change of scenery and a fresh star,t where no one knows all of your...umm...issues." Dad just stood there letting her cast me out. I knew it was definitely not so I could start over. It was so that her book club or members at her women's meetings wouldn't recognize that her daughter wasn't perfect.
"Out of sight, out of mind, right mom? Isn't that the way we do things around here? Make sure you tell your friends that I'm all better now, and I am going down south to work on my tan. Whatever, when do we leave?" I waived off her every attempt to interrupt me and never waited for an answer. I walked to my room and discovered that all of my stuff was gone already; only one suitcase with a few clothes in it remained in the bare room.
"Your mother thought it might be best to send your things ahead and have them set up for you. She really is doing what she feels is best for you, you know. I love you to pieces kiddo but I don't think we have done right by you to allow this to slip past us to let it get to the point it has gotten to... Maybe spending some time with your grandfather will be good for you. You have always been his favorite, and you used to love the beach." He tried as best he could to justify their actions but it wasn't enough for either of us. He pulled me in his arms and held me as I cried. I knew I wouldn't be coming back. Dad informed me the car was outside, gassed up and ready to go, and mom was waiting down stairs to say goodbye.
I made good time on the trip down so I stopped overnight and treated myself to a nice hotel since their guilt money was enough to keep me going for a little while. I woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I paced the room and looked for anything to keep me occupied. The tv was useless, and there I was staring at four walls of empty space again. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and before I knew it the water in the sink was pink and turning red. I quickly grabbed a towel to wrap my arm, and cursed myself for not making it one day on my own. Jade would be so disappointed in me, and I made a mental note to mail her the five dollars she bet me that I wouldn't last a week. While I was skeptical on their treatment, Jade was convinced it was all bullshit and that no one would ever get better by being locked away. I was still hopeful.
The next day I pulled up in grandfather's driveway to be greeted with open arms. He had always been an affectionate man and liked to show you he cared about you genuinely. After I got settled we decided to take a walk on the beach.
"Aren't you hot in long sleeves in the middle of August, Jamie?" Here we go, I would have thought they would have at least mentioned to him where I had been or why I was there.
"No sir, I am okay." Let's see how far that gets me for now. I did not really want to have to say something to the effect of, 'Of course I'm hot! It's the middle of August and it's 100 degrees out here, but unfortunately I have spent the last 3 years butchering my arms and sides. Not to mention I don't really want to get salt water in the newest of my solid collection, courtesy of last night.'
"You shouldn't lie to an old man. I know you have things you would rather keep hidden but I once read, 'Scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going." He looked at me and smiled as my eyes filled with unshed tears.