Sexy Psych Ward Boy

So it’s kind of a funny story. I really kinda like this guy from the psych ward. We’ll call him James. Let’s start at the beginning…
High school never ends. Even in the psych ward cafeteria there’s anxiety about who to sit with for lunch. My first few meals I sat alone. I was used to being alone. At that point I had been on restrictions at my sober living that kept me isolated from the community for about 5 weeks already. I was used to feeling like an outcast. <That sounds really emo but they don’t call me “Emo Emily” because I’m rational and have perspective> 
Then one day after some chit chat in group about mutual acquaintances, James sat with me at lunch. It wasn’t a big deal and I wasn’t over the moon about him quite yet but I thought he was funny, cute, and smart so it was kinda nice to have his company. 
After that I don’t really know what happened but we became tight. In the psych ward time moves slow so people move fast. We spend about 15 hrs or so everyday trapped in a bubble with gates and alarms. If you so choose you can get pretty close to the other crazies. That’s what happened with me and James. I was genuine with him and not afraid of my weirdness or flaws. And, if I do say so myself, I’m funny as fuck and so is he. 
I didn’t really know what to think of him and our weird little friendship at first. I felt so insecure about my appearance and personality that I didn’t think anyone could like me for more than just the “fat friend”. So I assumed it was just platonic between me and James. “Maybe if I was thinner…”
One afternoon I was laying in bed and he came upon me, snuck in my room for a long enough second to steal a kiss and for me to flash him. He tasted like taffy. 
Next day i wrapped my lips around James’ cock long enough to realize he’s huge and my deepthroating reputation was on the line. Didn’t finish but it was still kinda hot. 
Thee rest of the story is we were hot and heavy intermittently- as much as the psych ward would allow. 
Then I left. I didn’t think he would call me. He said he doesn’t do that. I was afraid to tell him I wanted him to call me. 
It was beautiful for awhile until I became ugly. My depression has consumed me and made it hard to use the phone in general. But I’m posting this and then calling him. Because he’s worth it. And I deserve it too. 

Retail and Therapy

My baseline for my mood has been so much better this last week. I got my first job and feel like there might be hope for me to function outside of institutions. What a novel concept for the girl who has thousands of dollars spent on professionals for her each week to keep her from killing herself.

Survival of the Fittest

I think about Darwin sometimes. Evolution and survival of the fittest. Put me in a time machine to the caveman era and I would rot in my cave alone or be kicked out of the clan. Depression, anxiety, bipolar, would feed me to the figurative and literal wolves.
Without the aid of the 21st century “life support”: meds, therapy, sober livings, intensive outpatients, and more meds: people like me…we would rot in our caves of closed blinds, isolation, Netflix, razor blades, pills, alcohol, and food that gets eaten or not.