My last night in the psych hospital

Tonight is gonna be my last night.

How do I feel about it?


I’ve spend 16 or 17 weeks of my life here. Together with a month in a crisis center. And in that time I’ve laughed and cried, held hands, played games and fell asleep depressed as a potato. (which, if you think that a big part of ’em only wait to be sliced up and eaten, is pretty depressed).
Sad as it may sound, I’m gonna miss it here, and all of the people I met along the way. A part of me is glad. Superglad I get to leave. But a part of me already breaks for the life I’m leaving behind. It’s gonna take a lot of adjusting to get back on my feet again.
But, I’ll have to remember that this is a good thing; I’m not leaving without reason, I’m BETTER. I RECOVERED. I looked madness in the eyes and spat in them. And my scars? Battlescars.
Oh yes, this was one crazy adventure. But with the insanity inside of me, more crazy moments are sure to come. Hopefully not involving mania, depression and/or vivid hallucinations this time.
All I can do now is be excited for the next big adventure. A life at school. A life with my love. A life of, hopefully, more peace than the insane mess that got me in here in the first place. A better life for as long as it lasts.

Goodnight, everyone.


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