For the last five days I was at a mental hospital. I got into a fight with my mother and told her that I wanted to kill myself. She took me right to a psychiatrist and he said that I should stay for a couple of days. When I saw all those people there with all of their problems, it made me realize that what I’m doing to myself doesn’t make any sense. I’m going to throw away all of my razors and I won’t smoke pot anymore. I don’t belong there and I don’t want to go back. I decided that I’m truly gonna get better. I still have to go and see the doctor for the therapy. And when I go there to see him in a week I wanna be happy and have clean wrists.