At 18, I Was the One Stuck in the Psych Ward
I am living proof of impossible things
I remember looking down at my green socks, the fuzzy kind with little grippy bits on the soles of my feet. I hadn’t come into the emergency room with these socks, but I hadn’t come into the hospital willingly, either.
I hated the socks. I hated the police. I hated my friends and the Rochester…