The Self Harmed by Chalen D. (electric book reader TXT) 📕

"I forgive you Daniel." I nodded.
He dug his fork into his food and took a bite, "Sometimes I just talk without thinking."

"My Mom calls it not having a filter." I said.
He laughed a little. The bell rang and I went to history with Alen.

"Can I ask you somthing?" 

"Shoot." He said, tossing a ball of paper into a trash can. 

It hit the brim and then fell in.

"Something happened to me, and Ayelie was there."
     He sighed, "You lost your balance in front of her and she freaked."

I nodded, "Why?"

"Her sister had a really bad eating disorsder." He paused holding up his arm to protect me from the passing nurses with a cart. "She was suposed to be here, but the night before she was suposed to be here, she died, from not eating. She didn't kill hreself, she thought it was a cowards excape, and her parents didn't tell her she was coming here. Three months later Ayelie showed up with a type of schizophrenia that is brought on by a Traumatic happening." 

 We took our seats at the back of the class, as the teacher hit his desk a couple of times to get everyone's attention. All I could think about was poor Ayelie, and How I had to start taking note of what upset her, and hide it from her.  I had to take a note from Clara and spit the food into a cup after I took the bite.

After my last class I made my way to Dr. Morren's office. I sat down in the over stuffed chair as She sat down in her office chair.

"So, how are you?"

"Fine."
She noddded, "What did you eat for lunch?"

"The main dish they served."

Again she nodded, "And how much did you eat?"

"Enough to get me full."

She sat back in her chair, and looked me over.

"What?" I asked.

"I want you to have dinner with me."

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to get your dinner and bring it to my office. We'll eat together."

"I usually eat with my friends."

"Some of your friends have come to me worrying about your eating habbits."

"Who?" I demanded. "Ayelie?"

"I promised I would keep all of their names quite."

"All?" I asked. "It was Clara, Ryder, and Ayelie wasn't it?"

She just looked at me.
    "Wasn't it?" I hit the desk.
     "Take a breather Charlie."

"Who came to you?" I stood up.
    "Have a seat, Charlie."

I opened the office door hard enough to make it hit the wall, and headed to the lounge. Ayelie and Ava sat on one side of the couch and Ryder and Clara sat on the otherside of the couch.
     "Who did it?" I demanded.
     "What?" Ayelie looked over at Ryder and Clara.
     " Who talked to that fucking Doctor about me?" I demanded.

"Calm down Charlie, you're going to want to trust me on this one." Ryder slowly got up.

"I want to know who fucking told her and I want to know right the fuck now!"

"It was me!" Ava Blurted.

"Why would you do that?"

"I had my reasons."

I walked over to her, but a male nurse grabbed me and pinned my arms behind my back.
    "Get the fuck off of me!" I kicked, making another one grabb my legs.

I moved around trying to get free. They took me to the ground and My shirt was yanked up.

"What the fuck!" I yelled, and then my body went slack.

I just layed there letting them put me in a straight jacket. One of the male nurses picked me up bridal style and left the lounge, with a couple of Nurses trying to calm everyone down. 

The took me too a cell room and layed me on a bed. They took off the straight jacket and strapped my wrists and ankels to the bed.

"Wait for the sedative to wear off and then see if She has calmed down." Dr. Morren said.

A sheet was placed over me, and then everyone left the cell, the heavy metal padded door banging shut. I closed my eyes and thought of a happy place. My fourteenth birthday. I snuck out with Owen and met him at the tree. For my birthday, I wanted to spend the night in the tree. We didn't count on the weather being so cold, and Owen held me the whole night to keep me warm. I soon drifted off to sleep, and woke when the door opened.

"How do you feel?" Dr. Morren asked.

"Fuck you." I muttered.

Flipping her off was a little hard becuase my wrist was still strapped to the bed.

"Still a little mad I see. Do you need another shot?"

"I need you to kill yourself so I can fucking get on with my life!" I spat at her. "Oh my god I'm sorry." I shook my head mouth open. "I didn't mean it, it just came out."

She sat on my bed, "I'm going to ask you something, Charlie. I need you to be honest with me. Do you ever feel like someones trying to get you? Like hurt you?"

"Sometimes." I looked out the bar covered window.

"I'm going to call a meeting with your parents. If your calm now, I'd like you to come to my ofice, so you can take a writen test. Can you do that?"

I nodded.

"James." She said, getitng up.

A male nurse unstrapped me from the bed and I followed Dr. Morren down the hall. She set me up with the test and left the room.

I was sandwitched between both of my parents in Dr. Morrens office.

"I'm Dr. Jones." A man said coming to take Dr. Morren's seat. "I met with your parents already Charlie."

I nodded.
    "Based on what your parents have told me, and on your test results, I think I can diagnose you. It's called  Schizoaffective disorder, and it's the depressive type."

"Excuse me?" Mom asked.
    "What does that mean?" Dad asked, putting a hand on mine.

"It means I'm crazy."

"No." Mom shook her head, at me.

"It's a mental disorder characterized by disordered thought process called psychosis and abnormal  emotions called mood disorder." Dr. Jones folded his hands on the desk. "Common symptoms of psychosis include auditory hallucinations, paranoid delusions, and disorganized speech and thinking."
    "What can we do?" Dad asked.

"Some recreational and prescription drugs may cause or worsen symptoms." Dr. Jones said.
   "I'm not taking pills." I shook my head. "I have to learn to deal with this on my own. I can't depend on pills."

"The average life expectancy of people with the disorder is shorter than those without it, due to an increased suicide rate." Dr. Jones said.

Mom looked at me, "Is there anything we can do at all?"

"The mainstay of current treatment is antipsychotic  medication combined with mood stabillizer medication or antidepressant medication, or both. There is growing concern by some researchers that antidepressants may increase psychosis, mania, and long-term mood episode cycling in the disorder. When there is risk to self or others, usually early in treatment, brief hospitalization may be necessary." Dr. Jones said.

I got up, and headed to the door.

 "Charlie-"
     "I can't hear anymore." I cut Dad off. 

I went to my room, and that's where I stayed for the next two weeks, taking my classes, meals, wieght, and Doctor visits. No more group, No more friends, no more normal.

I dropped off my Project with Mr. Pepper and then went back to my room. There was a bottle of blue nail polish on my desk. I picked it up, and then picked up the note.

* You need to start using this. Your nails are turning purple from lack of nutrients. People will start to notice, like everyone who has an eating disorder in this school. You're not fooling anyone Charlie. This will help. I know how things get.

-C*

I plopped down on the bed shaking the bottle. I painted my nails and then left my room.

"Nice to see you around." Maggie winked at me.

I opened the door to the group therapy room. Everyone looked at me as I slowly shut the door. 

"Charlie." Barbra said. "Nice of you to join us."

"I just wanted to give Clara something."

"Well why don't you sit down. You don't have to talk."

The only empty seat was by Ava. Ayelie got up and sat next to Ava. Her seat wasn't much better. It was between Clara and Ryder. I walked over and sat down. 

"Now," Barbra smiled, at the group.
I slipped thenail polish to Clara, who slipped it into her boot. Once group was over I went back to my room again. I opened my door at a knock. It was Ryder.

"What?"

"Some of the Doctor's think you need someone to talk to."

"So they sent you." I laughed once. "You wouldn't understand."

"Why? Cause I don't cut myself?" He asked, pulling up his sleeve to show off scars. " 'Cause I'm not suicdal?" He looked up, showing a scar on his neck. " Maybe it's 'case I don't have an eating disorder?" He lifted his shirt, showing each and every perfectly showing rib, and his hip bones.

I looked down and he put down his shirt and pulled down his sleeve.

"I'm on your side Charlie. Everything you're going through I went through too."

"Your best friend didn't kill themself."

"Want to bet?" He asked, crossing his arms. "I'm here so you can talk to someone. Anyone. Someone Who you know, " He counted it off on his fingers. "Someone that has been there, and someone who won't think your crazy."

"Well are you going to come in or not?" I asked, opening the door a little wider.

He smiled, and came in.

"So, this is what the cave of Charlie looks like." He looked around.

"Not very impressvie is it?" I sat on my bed.

"I like it." He sat on my trunk. "So what's up?"

"Nothing." I got under the blanket.

"Come on." He said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "You've been locked in your room for almost half a month. Something has to be going on inside that beautiful head of yours."

"I lost sixteen pounds since I've been here." I said, playing with a corner of the blanket.

"I wasn't going to say anything but I've noticed."

I nodded, "And Dr. Jones said what I have."

"And?"

"And It's stupid. I am crazy after all."

"We're all damaged in our own way. Nobody's perfect. I think we're all somewhat screwy. Every single one of us."

"Johnny Depp." I nodded.

"So?"

"It's called schizoaffective disorder, depressive type."

He nodded and then grabbed my face so I had to look at him, "You are not crazy. Your not wierd. Your you, with quirks. Everyone has them. Everyone has to work through them. And together," He took