Everyone?s leaving because of the trolls. I?m not. No one is innocent of ever hurting anyone. To fight or not to fight, that is a difficult question for many former prisoners of Straight. To fight was to lose. To not fight was to lose as well. The feeling of a caged animal is left behind. How many years did it take to be able to sit in a room and not constantly think about the path from where I sat to the door? And whether I dared leave, for no good reason, what were the reasons not to leave (these were innocent post-Straight situations, like classrooms) such as would I offend somebody (make them mad, make them call me out), would I get a bad grade, or whatever other unreasonable fear. But I really wanted to get up and walk out. Sometimes I get that way just about sitting in a chair at home.
You know, I always wanted to walk out before Straight as well. That?s one reason why I got put in in the first place: I kept on cutting school. The obsession for being free also carried over into my decisions while in Straight. During my intake, I asked one girl how I could get out of there the fastest. She said ?just be honest.? I believed her, so I was honest, about my drug list and everything. Then you know how it was, trying to play it their way, it didn?t even matter. Someone always stood up to say ?you?re pushing out your tears.?
That was some really harsh abuse in there. I forget about that. It was hard to even cry, for example, at a counselor?s office, for years after Straight. I really thought that when I cried they were looking at me to see if I was faking it, or that I was lying about whatever I was talking about. That is only one example.
But most of the time I don?t even feel sorry for myself. Most of the time since I was in Straight I have only hated myself for my weakness in there. This hate keeps me alone. Coming back to this board has helped because it has suggested other ways of looking at my choices in there.
The staff member who walked over while I was being restrained* and said I looked ridiculous (well I am lying on the floor with someone on each arm and leg and someone holding my head in a painful position and covering my mouth so I can?t scream, yes I suppose I do look ridiculous) ? I can either hate her or I can forgive her. Not knowing what forgive even means, I choose to hate her. I think that is better. Forgive is stuffing a sock in your mouth, be nice, sit up Straight, face forward. So fuck you.
What would I be ?forgiving?, anyway, just some image of her that floats in my mind. So hate that image, tell her to fuck off, get up, grab her hair and slam her head against the wall. ?You get the fuck away from me, junior staff scum.? It just is not normal to be caged the way we were, so that we could NEVER fight back, NEVER question, NEVER say to staff ?what the fuck? You are sending me to someone else?s house? I?m on second phase, I want to go to my own house!? Lined up like animals at auction, every night, standing in that godamn single file line with someone?s fist in your backbone, waiting to be released.
All of that rage is inside. It has come out when things get a certain way. Then I can see clearly. You fight me? I?ll fight you, and you will not win. Maybe it is just the dilemma that lives inside of me. I can?t not fight, or I will once again be the weak and caged animal.
Lying in a strange house, thinking about the bag of clothes, and the route to the front door. Or the maze of halls in an apartment building, or, in a car, the door handle.
I just want out. But I am afraid of what they did to Heather F. I am afraid of being tackled and then brought back to the white room, the back of group. The most familiar place in the world.
So the answer is no, I do not forgive the people who did that to me.
*For the record, this is why I was ?restrained?: I refused to motivate, so the girls on either side of me grabbed my arms and ?motivated? them for me. I wanted them to get their hands off me so I tried to yank my arms away. Then I probably started yelling at them to get the fuck off me. I do not remember how I got from the chair to the floor behind group. Unacceptable: fighting BACK, talking out.
