Now or Never

face again. She just shook her head and claimed not to know anything about it.
    So I went for Tuck again, “Tell me the truth, you already got caught. Just be a man and tell me what is going on, or I can assume and walk out of here forever.”
    “You should go, you are over reacting. She is just a girl from work. All we did was kiss that’s it. I told her I had a girlfriend and I stopped it. You should go you’re acting crazy.”
    I couldn’t believe he said that and I couldn’t believe what was happening. The tears that were forming in my eyes were about to come pouring out and I could not let him see. I ran as fast as I could to my car and drove as far as I could until I could no longer see from the tears that were pouring down my face. The only way I knew how to make the tears stop was to cause physical pain. So I pulled over, grabbed my keys and used the sharpest one to make a very deep gash on my left wrist. The harder I pushed, the deeper the cut, the more numb I felt. Numb was good.
    I haven’t cried since that day. It’s been six months and not one tear has escaped my eyes.
    I tried going out with old friends from high school over Christmas break, which happened to be just 2 weeks after the day all of that went down. I was so uncomfortable in my own skin, I didn’t even know what to say or do around people. I did know that I needed to find a new guy fast, because someone needed to fill the emptiness I felt inside me.
    I found a way to get myself more comfortable and out of my shell. It was called vodka, and it was my new best friend. I remember taking shots from a vodka-filled water bottle as I drove to meet up with an old crush from high school. Drunken sex filled the void for a while. Not eating anything to the point where I felt starving helped keep my emotions in check too. I found all sorts of ways to numb out and not deal with my reality.
    After I actually did eat, whether it was a drunken stop at a fast food place on the way home to sober up or when I had to be in front of people and act “normal”, I felt disgusted with myself. When I had food inside of me, I felt like I was crawling out of my skin, and I didn’t want to feel anything. That’s when the purging started. At first it was hard and it grossed me out to the point that I would almost cry, but I didn’t. I started to do it every day; it was sort of a release for me, kind of like the cutting was.
    Day Two
    I’m scared to tell daddy that I am in here. I don’t know what to say to him or how he will react to it all. I was in such a fucking horrible mood when I went up to visit him a few weeks ago. Going from Florida to New Jersey may put anyone in a bad mood, but this was different and he could tell. He told me that I was too young to be so unhappy and that I shouldn’t care what other people think of me…but I do. He’s a guy he doesn’t get it. But at the same time, I am mad at him for not understanding it. He did the same thing to numb out; only he did it with just alcohol…he was in rehab before. So why am I so scared to tell him I ended up here too?
    So I met with my therapist today, her name is Gianna. She didn’t make me say much, which was nice, but she did give me my first challenge: I had to speak in group after dinner that night. I laughed in her face and said no fucking chance. I asked her if they served drinks at dinner and if so that it may be a possibility. That was a bad fucking call because now I am on all three “tracks” that they offer here. The “self-harm track”, the “trauma track”, and now the “drug and alcohol track”. Fuck, I’m never getting out of here.
    If I don’t do any of my challenges, I don’t move up the level system they have here. The higher the level, the more challenging it gets, but the more privileges you get at the same time. For instance right now I am on level one, and I can’t do anything unsupervised. I can’t even go to the bathroom by myself. If I had any shame left before I got put in this place, it is now long gone.
    Day 3
    This morning when I woke up I had to get in line to get whatever meds they are filling me with, and then take a piss in a cup so they could drug test me. That one was going to come back to haunt me, I didn’t fess up to all of the weed smoking I was doing before they put me in here. Why did I have to make a smart ass joke to my stupid new shrink? After they took my THC filled cup away from me I was ushered into a tiny room with white