Mental
Love
Hi. I'm Britney.
I cut myself. I smoke weed. I smoke cigarettes. I drink. I burn
myself. I scream. I have major mood swings. I flip out, all the
time, for no reason.. I'm mental. There is something wrong with
me and i want to get better.
That's what they want to hear. They want me to talk. They want
me to admit everything that's wrong with me. But i see through
her plastic smile. Her perfect teeth. Her fake
"understanding" look. Psychiatrists are all the same.
That's why I don't talk. I refuse.
I mean, I don't want to hurt myself. I don't want to be a
bad kid.
But I can't help it.
And if I can't, neither can anyone else.
So as my new therapist, psychiatrist?, talks and asks me
questions..
how are you feeling
how does that make you feel
why would you do that...
I sit there, in the huge mustard yellow chair and stared. I just
stared at her. I didn't want to tell her my problems.
Why should I?
The only person I've told, betrayed me.
I guess I should tell you about that huh?
*comment? should i write more?
Mental Love Hi. I'm Britney. I cut myself. I smoke weed.
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1 comments
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Feb 12, 2011 9:13pm
DramaMama97x · 1 decade ago
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reply
That's a really great start! Can't wait to read more. Do me a HUGE favor and tel me when you post the next part please!
Love always,
DramaMama97x