I wrote this my third day in the mental hospital.

My mother is missing. I talked to my middle sister and she says our mother has disappeared for a year. She usually disappears for big moments of time but never a year. I felt in my sould that she died. I don’t even know if I care.

Today is my third day in this hell and I want out. I can’t believe I went too far to put myself in a mental ward. All they do is medicate you. All do is sleep and eat that nasty ass hospital food. And my dreams have been so crazy lately. They have been really violent; I think it’s the med. I could feel my heart race in my sleep but can’t wake. My dreams have been so vivid.

I need to figure out what’s wrong with me. I need to figure out before it goes too far. I can’t go back home, not now, I think I will be here a couple of days, not after what I did, i can't go home. I can’t go back, I’m too damn embarrassed. All the neighbors hate me. I think they are plotting against me. I can’t seem to act right. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I’m losing days. I’m losing sleep. I’m jobless. I got myself backed into a wall and it’s not cute. I don’t think I can get another job in DC. I’ve quit like 50 jobs since I've been in this city for four years. A normal person doesn’t get 50 jobs in a year. Every year I do my taxes and I’m so surprised by how many w2s I get. Nobody is going to hire me. I ain’t got any money.

I’m hearing the voices again. I’ve been hearing them my entire life but they are getting louder. They are getting bolder. I keep telling myself I got to survive this. I got plans for my life. I knew I should’ve never started AA because sobriety only makes me deal with my issues. I’d gotten so use to avoiding any human interaction, any human feeling. I know I can be sane; I just need to wait it out. I just need to wait the therapy out. I decided to try something new, get help and now I just feel uncomfortable. Tom says I have no self restraint. He says I give into all my temptations. He’s right. I’m impulsive but it’s worked for me for years. I just hate when it starts calling me, the voices. I hate Wednesdays, and at first it’s just a whisper. Then it gets louder. And if I try to ignore further, it starts yelling.

The voices in my head go back and forth, talking calming and then belligerent but soon I find myself walking to the liquor store or nearest drug dealer house and then voices keep telling me to take whatever I need to take to shut them the fuck up. To feel normal again. To have peace in my head and then it’s that devious smile. It’s that same smile I get on my face when I know whatever chemical I put in my body has changed my personality. I’m Sean again. And then that’s when Tom tells me the look in my eyes change. He says I change like 180. I just want revenge. I just want revenge.

Is that what I want? I want them to pay. I want them to understand I haven’t forgotten. But it’s all so pointless. My life is nothing like it was when I was a kid. I think all I want is now is to survive. My psychiatrist calls it post traumatic syndrome. I keep having the nightmare. Even so many years later I keep having the nightmares. I don’t understand why it won’t leave me alone.

Then I remember how much I was beat. Beat down. And I had to escape. I had to escape the physical torture. Yet, I still want for it to love me. I don’t think I want revenge at all. I want for it to love me.

I’m beginning to realize I’ve only know people who hurt me. And I wonder if a person like me who’s come from such abuse ever heal?

Maybe that’s my life story. Maybe that’s my life story. Maybe that’s why it has to make sense. I will do something GREAT!!!!!! With this pain. I won't let it go silent. I won' t let it destroy itself.

I know i can be sane.