Entry 1: June 23rd

June 23rd

Dear Diary,

So, I suppose I’m titled “chemically imbalanced” instead of “emo” like strangers tend to judge me as—strangers that attend at my school and label me. Eh, it's almost like stating whether I’m chicken or fish. Obviously, Jessica Simpson would think that.

I’ve never written in one of these diaries or journals, except during language arts when we have those retarded Writer’s Workshops when we have to write shit for a grade. What’s different is that, this isn’t for a grade. As Dr. Gates calls it, “It’s to show how you’re progressing.”

Once I returned home from Dr. Gates' office, I decorated it with skulls and a few of my ol’ nicknames or quotes, even put a few of my favorite bands on there. What I noticed was that I never drew any hearts on it like a normal girl, hinting at the fact that I wasn’t normal at all.

A normal girl doesn’t dress in black, saggy clothes. A normal girl doesn’t mope in her room and writes poetry consistently about suicide. A normal girl doesn’t take medication for unstable, emotional minds.

I did want to attend my meetings with Dr. Gates, I just didn’t want to take the medication. Elise’ll freak once I break the news to her Monday, just hope she doesn’t take it overboard.

Your Friend,

Elizabeth “Raven” Jameson