Certifiable Sin (Sample Chapter)

July 27, 2017 . Anger Journal

So, I have anger issues. I’ve lost a lot of friends to rage and emotional outbursts. I ruin relationships and put myself in dangerous situations in public. Since I can’t think before I speak, I will write. Whenever I feel like exploding on someone – I’ll write it. Think before I speak. I hope this works.


Right now it’s Fred. How can someone care about someone but never show jealousy? I just told him I’m going on a date and it’s like it doesn’t matter. Does he even care at all? Or is he just playing it cool. Something like that would drive me crazy!

I shouldn’t expect anything.


He canceled again… “Can’t make it.” I’m tired of not being anyone’s top priority. Doesn’t he want to see me?


It’s always something with these men. Why doesn’t anyone want to make the effort I would? Why am I not worth making the time for?


I am brutally honest.
I expect the same.
I deserve the same.


August 01, 2017 . Hospital Journal

LOCKED UP
Admitted to hospital voluntarily.
I can’t believe they did this to me.
I knew I needed the help.
But how so fucking dramatic.
How humiliating.


August 02, 2017 . Hospital Journal

Being here is no different. Just tune the crazies out *looks around* – oh I am one of the crazies now!

I heard tales of places like this. After all everyone knows One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest is one of my all time favorite books. Or Girl Interrupted. It’s not exactly like that. Just a big quiet hospital where you can roam freely-ish. We interact – as much as we can since we’re all wounded animals. Sensitive.

Survival will be based on how long you can go without conflict.
Maybe it’s the meds – But these people are more tolerable than the “normies”.


When I got here I was assigned to a room with a woman who much rather be alone. I don’t blame her. I much rather be alone too. But that’s because I hate people. Not sure what her problem is, but I’m guessing she doesn’t like people much either.

I had to sleep in the quiet rec room. I actually preferred being left alone for the night.

Today I attended group. It was interesting but nothing I haven’t heard before.


How did this happen to me? Was it my fault or theirs? Is it everyone’s or just my brain?

How is this supposed to help? Sitting alone. Annoyed by everyone. Isn’t this they type of shit I should be avoiding?

I told you no one care about me. Not worth the effort. Always alone.


August 06, 2017 . Hospital Journal

Awful day. Yelled at staff over salad.


August 07, 2017 . Hospital Journal

Very social. Fun day.


August 08, 2017 . Hospital Journal

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”


August 10, 2017 . Main Journal

So today begins my new life. Or more like the end of my old life. Life how I knew it. Things will be a lot different now. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

I’m sitting on my balcony at 6 am. Smoking a real morning cigarette, with the sun rising up slowly, the birds chirping and planes soaring by. I can clearly see the birds who chirped. I never noticed them before. The smell of gas from the cars in the parking lot below is so strong. I feel anxiety. The anxiety that comes with new found freedom.

You see, I spent months struggling with my sadness and anger towards the world and people. I wanted to die. To end my suffering. Because I truly believed no one cared. That I was a burden to everyone. No one really liked me.

I spent two weeks obsessively thinking of ways to end my life. I overdosed on pills, then chickened out. I made a noose out of fashionable scarves, then fell asleep before making the leap. By the time I was ready for my third and final attempt everyone felt it. My friends contacted my family and on August first my life was saved. I would be changed forever.

On August first, my family lead by my best friend Steph arrived at my door. I was mid-blunt in a dark apartment filled with cigarette smoke. Having given up on life I found everything almost comical at that point.

I watched as my parents, brother, sister-in-law, and Steph came down the hall towards me. I knew what was about to happen. And out of fear of the unknown I slammed the door in their faces and bolted the locks. After an exchange of which side of the locked door would call the cops first – I let them in. It was the end of life as I knew it. People cared. I wasn’t ready, but the band-aid was ripped off for me.

After an hour discussing my hatred towards life, my mental health, and the fact that I deserve better, I was whisked away to a mental intake facility.

For a week and one day, my life was turned upside down. My freedom was stripped away. And because people valued my life and I didn’t, I was put on suicide watch. I had finally hit bottom. The point I think I subconsciously prepared for. I was crazy. I was in a mental ward.


November 21, 2017 . Main Journal

Exactly one month later. My therapist has asked me twice already (for two weeks) to write in my journal. I don’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe as I write I realize each journal has been a living breathing chapter of my life. Each time my life changed, for better or worse, I also changed journals. About a dozen chapters sit on a shelf next to my bed. A constant reminder of how far I’ve come. This journal I’m writing in was supposed to be the happy one. Not the ending. Just the chapter where the broken girl you were routing for finds her purpose and life changes for the better. About only 1/8th of the way through this new journal, I had a set back.

On October 29th another man broke me and disrespected me in public. I took a cab home, drank beer, smoked a joint, followed by 6 cough/cold pills and countless incoherent phone calls to friends. By 3 am I woke up to a handful of paramedics calling my name and shining a flashlight in my face. They had broken my door down!

Here we go again. Thankfully I’m not hopeless this time. They released me after a couple of hours in the equivalent of the drunk-tank for crazy people. I’m not hopeless and I’m not giving up. I have things I want to do and experience. I just need to learn how to survive in such a cruel and selfish world while being such a fragile person. A fragile person who is much too blunt and honest with others.

Gotta find my emotional middle path.


January 24, 2018 . Main Journal

I thought I’d start a new journal by now. New year, birthday, fresh start. But it doesn’t feel right. Each journal is a chapter in the story of my life. And something is telling me after all I’ve been through, this chapter isn’t over yet. Something’s missing…


May 22, 2018 . Hospital Journal

Here we go again. Day three in the psych ward. I feel like a failure. Like I lost the game of recovery. I know I’m not like them. You can tell who really needs it and who is getting played by the system.

This building is much harder to deal with. The people are sicker. It’s dirtier. The workers are lazier. There’s violence, screaming. This didn’t happen in the other wing. In the other wing we were family. We looked out for each other and got in trouble for giving each other hugs.

Here you fend for yourself. Practically a jail environment. You have to watch your belongings – and your back.


May 23, 2018 . Hospital Journal

This time around I did half the time. Today is my release date. What a drastically different experience this time around. So much hate and negativity. Last time was full of hope and love. I almost didn’t want to leave last time. Now I’m watching the clock waiting for 1 pm. I need to make sure I never do this again. I’m better than this. I may be sad and lonely, but I don’t belong in a place like this.

Time to seriously grow up and get your shit together.


June 10, 2018 . Main Journal

Set back
I was involuntarily admitted to the hospital. It happened again.

My mother was in the hospital for a week. I met a lying man name Jeremy – and I spiraled again.

This time it was torture. Jail. One of the worst experiences of my life.

I felt like a failure. Tried to pick myself up and didn’t go looking for a man. Baby steps.

Then I spent time with Craig. A friend of Alice’s. Another liar full of empty promises. This time I’m not going to let myself fall apart.


June 30, 2018 . Main Journal

Sitting on my balcony listening to King Without a Crown. At noon I texted Craig asking him to make an effort. To show me someone cared about me. He played the same dirty trick on me he did two weeks ago. Today I told him to come speak to me face-to-face. I’m tired of men not taking me seriously. I’m tired of not being worth the effort.


It’s about 4:20 (teehee) and I’ve heard nothing from Craig. About four and a half hours later. He lives fifteen minutes away. Go figure, someone else who is too busy to make time to ease my mind.

I spent the past four hours watching CoCo and showering, and alternating between cigs, joints and cups of coffee. Aside from the breakfast I made for George before he left, I’ve only had a bag of brownie muffins.

I’m going on one pack a day these days. Boy am I stressed. I suppose I’m less depressed and anxious, but still mopey and paranoid nonetheless. I’m on my second-to-last smoke. I play this game with myself and force myself to go outside and leave my apartment by going to the bodega.

I’m running out of money though. Between the bud, smokes and shows I’m down to my last five dollars. I offered Craig a Lyft to my place. Good thing he didn’t accept (he was with Alice) now I have bud to smoke.

I’ve been on the balcony most of the day. Taking breaks to burn, feel some AC and drink something cold. Other than coffee.

Anyway, I’m going to try and not contact Craig until I’m back from my bodega run. Take a walk to clear my mind.

I miss him. I hope he comes.


July 5, 2018 . Main Journal

I begged. I begged for almost a month now. I’ve officially gone full circle in a year. Right where I started. This time I have no one else to blame but myself. When my parents last “came to my rescue” in the middle of the night, my Mom tried to blame my therapist. But this time I think my therapist is great. And even my psychiatrist as hokey as she is, is great. They’re helpful. Great at their jobs. I’m just a lost cause.

One year later and I’m still suicidal. I’m even burning myself now. My last episode over Craig and Alice made me so angry I wanted to hurt someone so bad I turned to myself.

They’re vicious bullies. Everyone just dismisses me and my feelings so quickly. They assume they know me. I’m just a crazy chick. They just run and move on without looking back.

Why should I continue this fight to live if whenever I come close to loving someone it scares them off? Will I just be alone forever? Is this my path? If it is – well then I want out!

I’m tired of always being angry.
I’m tired of crying and screaming.
I’m tired of hurting and faking smiles.
I’m tired of trying to get through the day.
I’m tired of stalking to find out the dirty truth.
I’m tired of being blocked and ignored.
I’m tired of just being a lay with a great ass.
I’m tired of hating this life.
I’m just fucking tired of it all.

But I’ll keep trying. This is … Life as Sin.