Snippet #2349558

I looked back at the doctor with a raised eyebrow at what she said about that not being what she wanted to hear. Then hearing her say she wanted to know about personal interest made me laugh and I rolled my head on the back of the chair knowing that can't be true. Because it's not fucking true! It's not true at all! You should just be locked away and never be let out like the fag you are! Ahhhh!! The voices said and my smirkish smile and laughing ceased to exist. I went numb and looked at the doctor with no emotion at all. Just numbness.
"Sure, doc. Whatever you say, doc." That's all I could say after her little speech about trust and hate. And in all she said, I don't hate her. I just don't like her. She's a doctor. And all doctors do is say how we can get better if we try and how we need to find a cure and shit like that. But what they don't understand is that sometimes there is no cure. Sometimes, people just don't get better.
Then, the doctor had told me I could leave unless I'd like to stay. "Humm, let's see, doc. Stay here and talk or go back to the recreational room where all people do is sit by themselves and read. Humm, it doesn't make a difference to me, doc. Both places has voices that never stop. Humm, what a tough discussion. Hang out with a doctor or some crazy guy who goes in awe at the sight of blood. Humm...doctor, blood, doctor, blood..." I said with each word drowned in an ocean of complete and utter sarcasm. Leave! Leave and go! Leave and go! Go! Go! The voices kept yelling at me, telling me to leave and go and I know why. If I'd leave, they'd make me go insane all over again and try to make me hit my head again. So this is a really hard choice. I could go and risk getting hurt again or I could stay here and risk having an attack in front of a doctor. I don't know. I just don't know.
Instead of saying any answer, I stand up shaking my head and walk out of the office and head back to the recreational room with the voices screaming and yelling the whole time I walk.