I'm mostly okay at this current job. To be honest, I have cried several times since I've come here. This week, I've cried maybe four times or more. I'm good at hiding it though, it's just when I run out of tissues it's a problem. I am making money though, and that's what is important. And it's not a permanent job.

What I don't like, it when people do not let me in on important things, see post a few posts ago. But it's good for me to have somewhere to go for nine hours, five days a week. I will not end up in the hospital again if I have responsibilities and feel guilty for not dealing with them.

Yes, I believe in people getting dream jobs. But I am neither ambitious or patient, so I will settle for what I can get.

As for having a plan for the next five to ten years, I'm not sure. I would be twenty-three to twenty-eight then. I only have the next two years planned right now.

Okay, so I think I'm ready to talk about the hospital. Or at least how it was like, though I'm omitting some parts about how paranoid I was. Not what happened before I went in.

This lady put sticky things on me, it hurt when I pulled them off, and they left marks that were hard to wash off. I was in a ward where the beds were separated by curtains. I heard a lady in the next bed get an enima, it smelled. I was too drowsy to be freaked out though. There was a bandage on my foot where I had stepped on glass, and a bruise on my knee, don't know where it came from.

Then I went to another ward where my bed was in a room with a woman who I didn't see much of. I was too drowsy to do anything, and the nurses kept changing and asking me the same questions. My watch was set at the wrong time for a whole day, and I slept through dinner, and a nurse thought I had skipped it. The beds were so uncomfortable, I didn't want mom to bring me an extra pillow like other patients had their families do. In the second room, the light over my bed creaked a lot. It freaked me out, but if it fell on my head I could have gotten money, so I didn't tell the nurses.

The first three days were blurry, because I was so drowsy. I wasn't allowed by clothes for three days, so I had to wear the clothes I came in (pajama pants, tank top, and robe), and also my sneakers which had blood in them. They let me have clean underwear and socks. There was a girl who was there longer than me, and had to wear a hospital gown and pants the whole time I was there.

The view from my window was of a roof, but it was peaceful and I liked it. It was also sunny. My roomate left, and I had the room to myself for a night. But they moved me into a room with another woman. The view was of Oulette, and reminded me of bus rides to school, so I didn't like it. I did see more of this roomate, she seemed like a bitch.

There were sessions I could have went to, but I missed most of them. I only went to two. Visiting hours on weekdays were 6-8 pm, and weekends were 1-6 pm. On the weekend I was allowed to go outside, but only for a half an hour at a time, and my mom and I had to go back up and sign in and out. But it was still nice to get out of that place. Weekends were horrible, because there weren't any sessions for me to waste time in, but at least there weren't many people in the ward.

I cried when I woke up in the hospital, and didn't cry again until the third day, the day I was supposed to leave. The doctor (who I now have to see once a month, and he seems like an asshole) told me he was keeping me there, so I cried a few hours later. I cried a few other times, because of paranoia, I won't say why. Then I cried again on the day before I left because I was happy.

I didn't really talk to anyone. A creepy guy talked to me a lot, so I avoided him. I talked to a women who was very nice, but I wont go into detail about her.

I was only there for a week, but it was still horrible. My mom came to pick me up at 10 am, and we rushed to pack my things as if I was escaping. In the hospital (I may have posted this before) it felt like a weight was on my chest, and it was hard to breathe because there wasn't real air. Not to mention the constant surprises coming from one woman, but out of respect, I won't say anymore on that subject. As soon as I got home, I took a proper shower and I washed the clothes and things that I had brought into that place.

A neighbour said "It's nice to see you awake", which means neighbours might have seen what happened. Which depressed me. No one else has said anything else though, which is good.

I've been very tired, but at least it isn't like the kind of tired I was in the hospital. That was an unbearable kind of tired. It felt like someone was holding onto my heart, or my heart was made out of lead. I dunno, my chest felt heavy.

It was also hard to breathe, because there isn't any natural air in hospitals. Maybe they should have oxygen lounges on each floor.


The other night, I heard "C'mon C'mon" by the Von Bondies being played live. It was across the river (I think), but it was so clear. I don't know why I mentioned this.

They seem to be gone, but I never know. It's kind of mean how stress can induce things that stress you out even more. Like hives that are only itchy when I'm trying to sleep. So if I didn't have the things that cause the stress, but still had the ones that were caused by stress... I'd still be a tired, itchy, shaking mess with bad skin.

Ugh.

One thing that creates some major stress in me, which I would like to beat with a baseball bat: Cockroach. She makes me feel so violent.