I got to leave the hospital for a few hours today, which was quite a nice change in pace. I got some good coffee, chatted with a friend, had a nice hot shower, and packed some extra thinks for my stay.
That was all very nice. The problem arose when I was walking around campus. I got endless glares at my scratched up arms and hospital bracelet. I ran into a few people I knew who were spending their summer doing research, and I had to fake a smile and tell them that I'm taking time to myself to get better, and not that I was forced into hospital after multiple overdoses. I faked a smile when all I wanted to do was cry and scream about the unjust world.
Even my taxi driver was an idiot. I asked him to pick me up from campus and take me to the psych hospital. I have a hospital bracelet on my wrist. He decided that it was appropriate to ask why my arms where so scratched up.
To make things worse, I got an email from my perfect aunt, who has a perfect kid, saying she was sorry to hear I was in hospital. I understand that she's my dad's sister, and my dad wanted to share, but it sucks. Her son has been extremely fortunate with his health, and summer opportunities and I'm here sitting in a psych ward.
I know the world isn't fair. I know I shouldn't expect it to be. But I just hate that it's not.