I literally have no ideas on what to write about, and I don't want to make this blog dry af... I made a list, but it deleted for some ing reason, so that . I'm still having a hard time coping with my boyfriend's death, so I don't really want to write about him yet... So, I will talk a little bit about my time in the psych ward in the hospital, and in two rehab centers.

When I was about fourteen, I was rushed to the hospital because I suffered from a . My esophogus was almost burst, and I was coughing up blood, and my bones were quite brittle. I was emediately hospitalized. I ended up staying at the hospital for about two months, actually getting used to the hospital and not minding being there. There was this one girl there because of Anorexia (I became friends with a roommate who also had the disease, so I don't hate anyone for that) and we were moved to the psych ward. . Went. Down. 

I was in art therapy, and that was sitting next to me painting black hearts on her paper (it looked pretty good, but when she started talking is when I couldn't stand her anymore), and she was going on and on about how she has "so much will power", and one time, she lost seven pounds in a week (which I thought was bull) she kept on trying to brag about how she gets away with never eating in the hospital, and how she did sit-ups in her bed every time the nurse left. She was bragging about her lowest weight, about her dumb pro ana site, how people wish they could look like her... (and I forgot to mention, that she was around 5'7 at the time, and kept on telling me she weight 85 pounds). She said I could stand to follow her "diet" and to look up her pro ana blog, and that she would be my "Ana coach" and some bull like that. She then just started talking right to my face and saying I was one of the biggest ones there, and I pushed her as hard as I could (She was right next to the wall) and got a chair from halfway across the room and chucked it at her - this was when I got at a much healthier weight - And guess the what? I was escorted to the mother in white room. Yes. That's right. For throwing. A. ing. Chair. I don't know what she's up too these days... or if she is even alive. Yeah, so I would say that was my worst experience in the hospital. It felt like I was in there for an hour! I literally just lay down and slept. A lot of people would think I would throw a tantrum and go crazy, but I didn't. Just layed down against a corner and slept. So, I guess that was pretty nice.

I had a roommate before that, and she also had an illness like mine. She passed away over night one time, which was a big thing that made me want to get better. I was starting to really click with some of the nurses there, and the hospital was basically home to me: I never really hated it at all. Nothing else really happened that was signifigant, other than my roommate's death, and that incident with that other girl. I was discharged after about two months. I was then 5'5 and about 90 pounds, I would say: when I was first admitted to the hospital, I weighed 86. I was then discharged and went home, but after a couple weeks, I relapsed and couldn't stop. Then, my parents enrolled me into rehab, where I stayed for three months; I became to love it there, and all of the amazing staff. I learned so so much and will cherish their love forever. I thank them dearly. I have so many memorable moments from my first rehab center.

The day I arrived was a few days before my 9th grade school year ended: some of my friends didn't know what happened to me, and later I found out that they were really worried; but at first I didn't believe that. There was a little waiting room where I learned about the rules and activities, and filled out tons and tons of paper work. I peaked in to the living room, and saw four nice looking girls. One girl looked back and smiled, and I shyley smiled back. She later on became one of my best friends. She had the same exact illness as I did. She was hilarious and has a wild personality like mine. One of the other girls was very religious, and she was one of the sweetist, most genuine people I have ever met. Another girl was very quirky and also very kind. The other girl absolutely loved harry potter, and mythelogical (is that a word?) stuff. I still keep in contact with them all the time, and they're so fun to talk to. I actually met up with one of them a summer ago, too. I ing loved art therapy there - I got that all over all my stuff and all over the room. We also made a lot of playdo and gak (slime). ing lit. There was always a puzzle out, although I never did them cause I've always at doing puzzles, and they frustrate me. I also learned a lot of origami. We each had a cubby shelf which of course I had incredibly disorganized and covered in paint stains. I loved the art room; I actually haven't painted in a long time. Oh my god a very clear memory and one of my favorites, was when each of the girls and I were on the big porch when it was raining, and we were laughing so much and it was such a happy memory.

Every couple days of the week, we had our heart beat and temperature checked or whatever in the back room - that was also one of the councelor's office - and one of the girls was on the couch in the room getting her labs done (we called the process 'labs'), and so I was on the porch (there was a window right next to the couch), and I just slambed my face against the fricken window for one minute until she noticed me. Yeah, I slammed my face so hard that my dumb gave myself a bloody nose.

Anyways, I have to go RIGHT NOW, so I'll post more memories from rehab the day after tomorrow. 

~Rosemary