Seer Me Wrong ✔

New Way of Life

My thoughts wouldn't stop swirling around my mind. I never thought I would be unhappy living outside the hellhole, I figured nothing could be worse than that.

I was wrong, fully and completely wrong. 

Over the last few days, I've realized I know nothing that has happened in the last decade and that's rounding down. I really didn't have anything to talk about. References are lost to me.  It was more embarrassing than frustrating.

Casey has been doing her best to show me all the movies she thinks I need to see or listen to all the top songs from over those years. She shoved news down my throat too.

Historical events I could remember. Everything else was all a big blur. 

The silver lining of it all is, Dr. Maria sent Casey and I on our way with an in-case-of-breakdown kit. She must have had the foresight that this would be very overwhelming.

Another downside to not being at the home anymore; no more psych medicine. So now the dead bother me all the time since there is nothing to block me from seeing them. At the moment, I don't sense one but you never know. They are sneaky and some are cruel and love to scare the piss out of the living.

I am laying in the borrowed bed in a guest room of a cute little row house in some town with Casey somewhere in Arizona.

I really don't want to get out of bed and face Casey this morning. She is always happy now, and the girl I knew at the hospital was not peppy this way. I like her and all, its just too early to be happy.

I'm still stuck on the schedule from the hospital, and I suppose it would take more than a week to shake that one. 

The smell of a coffee fills my nose, and I all but have drooled all over my face and shirt when I stumble into the kitchen. A cup magically appeared in my hand, as did the coffee pot.

I drink it black, for the most part, up until last week I had never had it before. I think that is the biggest injustice they did us all at the home. Fuckers probably drank coffee all the time, and we just didn't know it.

By the time I finish my coffee, I am one step closer to being happy and tolerant of my crazy roommate.

Speak of the devil, she strolls into the room on the phone, talking a mile a minute. She switches between repeating "No" quite forcefully to saying "Please" real nice like. I have no idea what is going on, so I leave her to that hoping I can run off before she gets off of the phone and wants to rant about it. 

I head to the shower, thinking that God's greatest gifts were water, soap, and shampoo, and I'll swear by that. Daily I take at least 2 showers.  Sometimes, I feel like I am trying to wash the filth of that place off me or maybe I am trying to get the stain it left on my soul.

Casey bitches about it a lot too, she will probably never understand why. I doubt anyone will ever understand what I have gone through.

Ok, seriously enough depressing shit this morning.

Casey and I have plans to go shopping to buy me "awesome things", her words not mine. I showered quickly, and then run to my room in a towel, hoping nothing is showing.

I am just happy that the state is giving me money, a settlement, if you will, for all the time I spent locked away. It's a pretty large amount of money that I will be getting monthly until the amount is paid.

I'll put it this way, I'll probably be able to put my kids through college if I ever have any. I was falsely left there for at least five years, not to even bring up the treatments I received.