i confessed my feelings to my dearest. <3
i was so insecure, and i almost didn’t say it. (though, i’m really glad that i did.) i had been thinking of telling him for a week beforehand, and i guess on 6/9/11 i finally decided that i would.
and so the world’s greatest love was born.
i freaked the fuck out,
my mother and i got into the biggest fight ever, there was screaming, curses, insults, physical violence. i was really glad that i had my dearest there for me (these last three and a half months have been the best, just so you know.) he really helped me calm down, even with my mother threatening to call the police.
well, when i got home that night all hell broke loose. she decided to send me away to arlington to stay with my cousin and his wife. (dearest, talking to you on the phone that night was the only thing that kept me from losing it, even if you were losing it at the same time.) trust me, going on that train was the hardest thing ever, i wish my mother had a look at my face when the train was pulling out, just so she could’ve known what hatred looked like.
i swear, leaving was the hardest thing to do.
so was spending my 17th birthday there, when i could’ve spent it with him.
when i came back it was 18 days later, and since then, i’ve been pretending to be the “perfect little girl” that my mother knows.
what a lie.
a month ago i started my senior year of high school.
it should have been a time of excitement and joy, but for me? no.
for me, it’s a time of stress. a time of being at the brink of freaking out.
it’s exhausting. so, so exhausting.
(i am currently enrolled in 6 classes, 4 of which are advanced placement)
on thursday i had what you would call a breakdown, y’know, crying and all of that jazz, in the middle of art class.
now, i don’t usually have things like that happen to me, and i was already going to go to the hospital later that day, so after i had mostly composed myself i texted my mother to ask her for when we went to the hospital, inquire about medication for anxiety/depression/whathaveyou.
she decided to flip her shit and take me to the hospital RIGHT THEN.
when we got there she mentioned that i was depressed and “suicidal”, so immediately they called in an “SI” and i was escorted to a room by a security guard. WHICH STOOD OUTSIDE OF MY ROOM FOR 12 FUCKING HOURS.
they then proceeded to send me (in an ambulance) to a “treatment facility” where i had no freedom, no rights, and no access to any electronics.
four days i spent there.
it was awful.
of what you may see in this blog, this is one of the only times you shall see my name.
Jazmin Tessier. (the one and only, or so I believe)
I am old enough, yet too young to be self sufficient. I am troubled, but not troubled enough to seek help myself, it is my mother that forces help upon me. I have a few interests, just enough to keep me busy when i need to keep my mind off of things.
I guess I’m what you would call a “normal” teenager. (but only when you see the surface)
This is a blog about my “reality”.
“This is not for you.” - House of Leaves, Mark Z. Danielewski.