tomorrow morning at eleven i'm being admitted to a private psychiatric hospital. am i scared or nervous? nope. relieved i am. its taken two and a half years to get this far, two and a half years of counsellor after counsellor, cut after cut, many overdoses of pills, and thousands of tears cried. i'll be in there for two weeks max. i think. no, i dont expect a miracle cure or for it all to happen as soon as im in there. it really pisses me off how my mum and dad keep saying that. do they think im stupid? it annoys me even more how mum always says she understands how i feel and think and why i cut, when really she doesnt. i get to have a break from my so called life and try to pull my mind together. i guess the zoloft has made me numb. i'm so tired. i'm ready to rid myself of this black dog and finally get my life back. after all, i've thrown away all my teenage years so far - i'd like my last three to be relatively normal without all this shit in it. depression is a bitch.