Erin (tragicdwnfall) wrote,
Erin
tragicdwnfall

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maybe i'm just a girl.....interrupted.

So I just finished watching Girl, Interrupted.

This is going to sound crazy in itself, but whenever I watch that movie it brings out really strong feelings for some reason, I guess because I can really relate to it. I remember being in that situation and being so confused, a new level of confused, it was something I had never felt before. Sitting in a room for hours at a time with only my thoughts to keep me company. Sometimes it feels like that part of my life never even happened, like it was a dream, a story someone else had told me, or even a movie oddly enough.

There is a part in the movie when Suzanna is talking about what good friends she had made from her experience and I never really thought about it until tonight, but to other people that must seem so strange. "Why or how could you be friends with a "crazy" person?" I remember the girls that I was in the hospital with, and although like I said it must seem so strange to an outsider looking in, I made friends with them very quickly and still think about them everyday. These are the only people you are able to interact with for a long period of time. You base your friendships and conversations on very personal things from the start, things that you normally wouldn't tell people unless you've known them for a long time. I wish so badly that I could've kept contact with all of them. The sad part is that I was the only one going home, the rest of the girls were going to residential facilities.

What exactly is the definition of "crazy" anyway? I'd like to know. Nobody is really normal, there's no such thing. If there was such thing, there would be a model for normal, and everyone would act alike. In the movie Susanna says something along the lines of "Being crazy isn't being broke, it's being amplified." I really and truly believe that.

And if anyone is thinking "oh my god why is she talking about this", "she was in a mental hospital", etc......Yeah, I was, and I have no problem talking about it, and yeah, I'm probably just rambling, but this is a journal.

In a way, I really believe that that was a good experience for me. It forced me to do alot of reflecting and evaluating. If I hadn't gone there, I honestly don't think that I would be here today. I can remember the car ride to the hospital like it had happened an hour ago. I was so mad, and so numb at the same time. I was angry at my parents for doing that to me, I felt like they had betrayed me in so many ways. My dad didn't even come see me or call. Not once the whole time I was in there. I should've been scared. I look back now and think about just how numb I felt. There was nothing inside me, I was dead. That scares me that I could ever feel that way.

Maybe this post was pointless or ridiculous, but that hit really close to home. That's exactly what it was like and I guess I just wanted to write about it. I haven't wrote anything in here thats more than a phrase in a long time.

Fin.
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