[GRACE LOGAN MARSHALL.]

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Grace sat in as part of a circle on an uncomfortable plastic chair in a large room. Looking around she could see familiar faces, and faces of people she didn’t recognise. Her therapy group had dwindled with people being discharged or moved to other groups and now it had merged with another group. It was strange to once again have so many people around, but she was glad the numbers hadn’t dropped much more. Grace didn’t deal very well with the idea of abandonment; it was part of her problem. Part of why she was here. Of course she was somewhat scared to admit that.

She fidgeted nervously as she glanced around once more. She didn’t know what was going to happen next. Sure, she’d been in here for a month, but that didn’t mean she’d experienced this yet. Apparently it was common for group therapy groups to be rearranged, that didn’t mean she hadn’t over thought it. Grace supposed she was going to have to deal with it, there wasn’t much she could do, she’d tried the whole clinging and crying mixed with a bit of ‘don’t leave me!’ around the place, it hadn’t worked well for her.

The room was dim, a little darker than normal though shadows were still being cast across the room from the sunlight coming through the large windows. Perhaps it was because it was an early morning session? It was only about ten thirty, which really wasn’t that bad but when you’ve been up for a few hours, and aren’t interested in hearing about how everyone is so much better than you, it seemed too early. Grace wished she could curl up in bed and just sleep through this, she felt bad enough about herself as it was, she didn’t want to have to deal with telling people how she’d made no progress this week to deal with her problems. She didn’t want to say she had no idea why she was like this.

People here seemed to make it so much harder for her. They knew how she was, nervous, unsure of herself, and with that constant underlying feeling of worthlessness. She’d been told by one of the psychologists that it was just part of her disorder, that she wasn’t worthless. She didn’t believe it. She sat and listened as one person spoke about their problems with food, it annoyed her to hear it, sure she’d been through it, but these people spoke about it as if it was something amazing, as if skipping some meals was something that mattered these days! Of course Grace knew what they were going through, the mental ramifications of it, the lack of energy, everything. She’d been there, done that.

See a lot of things that people came here for, she’d done. Most people knew that, it was part of her problem and while she wanted to move past it, it currently wasn’t working. She was too scared of failing, like she did with relationships, or anything long term. Grace had tried mood stabilizing medications like antidepressants; they hadn’t really worked for her. Sure they’d helped her moods but they hadn’t really helped her get over her issues. She’d just been more upbeat about them.

She sighed again as she continued to listen she felt like everyone was staring at her. One of her doctors had described it as being the ‘spotlight effect’. To an extent she’d imagined that as being placed actually under a spotlight, she could see herself sitting in this dim room a spotlight glaring down on her. Of course it had been explained as to ruin that image, basically it meant she was delusional, that she thought everyone cared enough to watch her, when really, they didn’t. Grace didn’t know which to be more worried about, being stared at, or not being stared at. If they were staring at her she’d be self conscious, but if not, she’d feel ignored, neither of which she wanted at the moment.

Finally it was her turn the leader of the group, a counsellor she hadn’t worked with previously spoke to her, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Grace, do you have anything to share about your week?” She paused blinking as it sunk in. Now she really could feel people’s eyes on her, she had to try and think of something upbeat and positive in order to please everyone – and to avoid a trip to a private counsellor her last one hadn’t worked out well. How was she supposed to know a ‘one-on-one’ session wasn’t supposed to involve anything more than talking? Ok, so maybe she shouldn’t have stripped naked and lay down on the couch after being asked to make herself comfortable.

“I wasn’t as depressed this week. I managed to eat all my meals and I haven’t slept with anyone or engaged in what I’ve been told is self destructive behaviour...” Her voice was soft and she never really knew what to say, unlike most people here, she never felt like she had achieved much, even if every step she took really was helping her. Grace sat there for a moment just nodding her head not sure if she should say anymore. Really she had no idea what to say, she could make something up and pretend everything went well, she could tell them all about the incident in the counsellor’s office, but that might be awkward, well, there was no might about it. It would be awkward.

Finally they moved away from her and she relaxed a little; or at least as much as she could in her uncomfortable chair. It was nearly too much for her to deal with at the moment, this group thing, she couldn’t wait for lunch, but she knew it would be a while. There was no clock in the room, it was an attempt to keep people focused, if people didn’t know how much time was left, they wouldn’t worry so much. This wasn’t exactly something that Grace could agree with, she hated not knowing what was going on, it made her nervous and she bit her lip lightly as she listened to the other people in silence, somewhat bored by, but none the less curious about what other people were saying.

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POST STATUS: this tiny post is absolutely complete!
ROLEPLAYING WITH: spotlight effect is open to the public, anyone can join!
WHERE WE AT?: a group therapy room. a large room, with some tables against the
walls, chairs in a circle in the middle of a room, the windows are large and the sun is
shining in. it's simplistic and clean, with no sharp implements.
WORD COUNT: our word count here reaches to about 1046 words, isn't it just amazing?!
NOTES: so not my best post ever but it's a way to start the roleplaying off right?!

[LUCA ALEXANDRA MONROE.]

i like a girl with caked up makeup

IN THE SUNSHINE SMOKING CIGARETTES TO PASS THE TIME
who wakes up to a bottle of wine
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Luca looked around the hospital. It was full of white; clean, bleached, white. Of course, outside of the windows were colors galore. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, and the sand was the yellow-brown color that one saw in paintings and photographs, but not in real life. In the distance stood one lonely tree. It seemed to disregard the laws of nature to which it was held. It defied common sense which said that trees should not be able to grow in the dry deserts of Arizona. The landscape outside was truly beautiful. Luca wanted nothing more to go outside, but instead she was confined in this ugly white prison. Still looking outside, Luca noticed that two black birds were flying by, but not close to the rehabilitation center. Even the animals know to stay away Luca thought to herself solemnly. She sat down on her white bed with its white sheets and started trembling. It started in her hands, but ended up moving all the way to her shoulders and then down her back. She hated it here, everything was so wrong. She started to feel the tears well up around the corners of her eyes, but she pushed them back. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry.

That morning during breakfast someone had watched her eat, trying to make sure that she ate the food put on her plate. The center had told her upon arrival that they wouldn’t force her to eat anything, but under the glare of the nurse she felt intimidated. Of course, she only pushed the food around her plate, trying not to think about how good the scrambled eggs would taste. She didn’t even like scrambled eggs, but she hadn’t eaten in a while, in fact it was impossible for her to remember the last time she had eaten solid food. It seemed that nothing but alcohol, diet coke, and occasionally drugs, all three of which were banned at Silverwater, was allowed to enter her body anymore. Solid food was forbidden. It ruined her. Without it she was clean, empty, pure. Nothing could bring her down. She was still clean, empty, and pure as she hadn’t eaten anything yet. Maybe if she continued they would let her go home. Maybe they’d realize she was a lost case and give up on her. Maybe.

Luca looked down at the sheet which she had been given. At the top it said: SCHEDULE in big, bold letters. Upon arrival the nurse had explained that most of the items on it were optional, but that Luca was required to attend all mealtimes, appointments with doctors, and therapy sessions- whether they were group or individual. As luck would have it, she was scheduled for group therapy in ten minutes. She looked at herself in the mirror. Ratty hair, sunken eyes, chapped lips, and her.

She followed Luca everywhere. She would appear in Luca’s reflection standing over her, watching her every movement. She would whisper into Luca’s ear where there was no mirror or window. She was like a conscience. A sickly, emaciated, destructive conscience. You look bloated She hissed into Luca’s ear. No? Not bloated? Well I guess it’s just fat.” Luca’s eyes began to tear up again, but she managed to push them back for a second time. Luca ran her hand up and down her stomach, trying to prove to herself that she was lying. Go on, pinch it she told Luca who did just as she was told. She pinched the little skin on her stomach harder and harder until she felt her skin pierce and blood running onto the tips of her unmanicured fingers. The girl who disobeyed every rule her parents had set down, the one who intended to break every single one here was powerless to herself, to her own eating disorder.

Looking one last time in the mirror she walked out of her room, down the hall, towards room one hundred and nine where group therapy was being held. She wore nothing but a pair of old plaid boxers and a white tank top, no bra, no shoes. She looked more or less like a homeless person, but she didn’t mind. She was determined to let the counselors and the other patients know just how fucked up and beyond repair she was so she could get the heck out of that prison as quickly as possible. She checked her watch to check if she’d be on time. It appeared so until she remembered that her watch was fast, fifteen minutes fast. shit. Luca ran the rest of the way to room one hundred and nine. Once there she looked through the small window at the top of the door before entering. Inside, a group of about ten people sat in a circle, light shining on them in their clean, white room. Almost all of them looked miserable; Luca definitely didn’t want to become one of them. She took a deep breath in before pushing the door open to enter the room. Everyone turned to look at her; she could feel their eyes digging into her skin, analyzing her. “They’re looking at your fat, you know.” she whispered into Luca’s ear. “Look at them, they’re so thin and pretty. You don’t fit in at all. Walk out that door. Walk out right now.” Luca considered it for a moment, but the woman sitting at the head of the circle turned to look at her newest patient and said “You must be Miss Monroe. I’m Dr. Lee. Come, sit down. Introduce yourself.” There was something warm about the woman and the way she hadn’t mentioned how late Luca had been that made Luca listen to her instead of her.

“Hi, My name is Luca Monroe. I’m from New York City.” Luca said, not knowing what else she was supposed to explain. She didn’t want to discuss herself, she’d rather let people jump to conclusions. Unfortunately Dr. Lee was making that quite hard. “So tell us a little about why you’re here” she prompted. “yeah, tell them. Tell them about me. I think they’d love to hear how crazy you really are.” “Umm…I’m here because I have trouble eating. I mean, I don’t really like to do it much.” Luca confessed, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “Okay, and what do you hope to get out of Silverwater?” Dr. Lee prompted again. “Nothing.” Luca answered, making it clear that she didn’t want to be asked any more questions.


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POST STATUS: complete
TEMPLATE CREDIT TO: sydknee says!
BANNER CREDIT TO: ME! (so don't steal!)
LYRICS CREDIT TO: So Rich, So Pretty by Mickey Avalon
ROLEPLAYING WITH: Grace
WHERE WE AT?: sunlit room, number one-oh-nine
WORD COUNT: one-oh-eight-six
LOOKING LIKE: outfit here!
NOTES: Luca is a mess. She's like half attention-whore, half shy.

[GRACE LOGAN MARSHALL.]

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Grace looked up as the door slammed shut behind a young woman, she was startled, but had, for once managed not to jump or fall out of her chair in shock. She blinked looking at the girl, she was so incredibly skinny. It shocked her, why didn’t she look like that?! Grace pouted and glanced away wishing she could suddenly lose ten pounds. It wouldn’t happen though, she knew it wouldn’t. Silence filled the room for a moment before Dr. Lee spoke again, addressing the girl as Miss. Monroe.

For a moment Grace’s thoughts fixated upon Marilyn Monroe, comparing her to the girl who’d just taken a seat – Luca, she filled in subconsciously. They were completely different, and yet both so perfect. See that was something about Grace, she tended to idolize people, to make people seem perfect in her mind no matter how fucked up they really were and no one in this group was ever left out of that. Everyone had something she thought was fantastic, that she wanted and that made her feel worthless in comparison. She listened as the girl spoke, only half heartedly, but she none the less listened. Trouble eating? Hmm. There seemed to be a lot of that here now days... And everyone who seemed to skip meals was so pretty; maybe she should take it up again. The thoughts ticked through her mind, she didn’t know what she should do about it and for now, she wouldn’t worry, maybe later when provided a plate full of greasy food she’d consider skipping it.

Thinking about food made her a little bit hungry, but the fact that Dr. Lee hadn’t said anything about Luca’s late arrival meant that it couldn’t have been too late into the session. That wasn’t a good thing; it would be so long before the end of this session! And such a boring session too, at least in some sessions they had trust exercises, they were interesting, she felt so much better when people were catching her as she fell. She liked to think people cared what happened to her, and in those, she did too. Grace sighed lightly and ran her fingers through her hair slowly, today, by far would be a long day, too long of a day in her opinion.

The circle continued slowly, everyone being asked something to start with, soon enough they’d just go into discussion about their problems; you could choose to share or sit in silence and listen. She debated if she’d share anything today; it was always hard for her. Grace constantly felt ashamed of her problems, of who she was. Despite what people said, talking about her problems, never really seemed to help her deal with them. If anything, talking about it all made her feel more inadequate than normal. Grace listened as one of the men in the circle spoke about his problems dealing with his sex addiction. She didn’t understand how you could have a sex addiction, it was strange, couldn’t you just enjoy having sex and get on with it? Apparently not.

Grace didn’t understand many of the things people were locked in here for. Most of them seemed so trivial, so simple that it was ridiculous to think you could change it, others seemed so intense, so much more important that it made her question why she was even there. Grace had a tendency to over think things, to drift off into her own little world and rationalise why everyone was so much better than she was – even if sometimes she came out feeling a little smug about herself. She wasn’t the type to try and make it as if she was fantastic, or even good in most case, often she found herself denying most of her positive qualities in favour of feeling small and insignificant. She had been told they would try and help her with that here, to help her accept herself and not to feel worthless, of course, she didn’t really think that to be possible.

“Grace, do you have anything to add?”

She glanced up startled once more from her thoughts, “About what? Myself? Oh, really I don’t think I matter enough to take up the time someone else could be using.” That was truly how she felt, like she was wasting everyone’s time here and that they should just forget she was here. “Now Grace, we are here to help everyone, do not sell yourself short, you are as important as anyone in here.” It took her a moment to think, maybe she should share with them, it was only fair that she’d try to be part of all of this, after all they all shared with her.

“Alright then, I’ll talk.” She paused again taking a deep breath. “I’m Grace Logan Marshall. I’m twenty years old and I have borderline personality disorder. I was committed when my family became concerned about my behaviour, I go through stages where I don’t eat anything for days and I drink. I attempted suicide at fourteen, let me tell you, trying to drown yourself in a pool doesn’t work when you know how to swim.” Grace paused as a few people giggled at that and took a deep breath. “I can’t hold down a relationship and I’ve prostituted myself on more than one occasion, just last week I stripped naked in one of the counsellors offices” She didn’t look ashamed as she told them all this, even if she was. People looked at her shocked and she understood why. Grace was tempted to stand up and walk out of the room but the stunned look on Dr Lee’s face kept her in her seat. In all the time that Grace had been coming here, she’d never said that much, Grace was sure the doctor was now regretting having asked in such a public session. The silence that followed Grace’s confession was awkward, she was blushing brightly and she was unsure of what she should do now, leave, or just stay there awkwardly looking at the floor.

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POST STATUS: complete.
ROLEPLAYING WITH: Luca
WHERE WE AT?: group therapy still!
WORD COUNT: 1011 words long.
NOTES: Luca is a darling, & Grace is totally fucked up.

[LUCA ALEXANDRA MONROE.]

i like a girl with caked up makeup

IN THE SUNSHINE SMOKING CIGARETTES TO PASS THE TIME
who wakes up to a bottle of wine
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Luca leaned back into her chair and watched as the people around the circle began to talk about their problems. Looking at them, they seemed so normal. If she had passed any one of them on the street she would have thought him or her completely normal. How was a person to know who to help if the person who needed help didn’t seem like he or she needed it. Then again, most of the people in the circle looked like she felt; they all seemed to want to be somewhere else. Those wearing watches were checking them every few seconds as if they had some other engagement to go to. Not that they did, everyone sitting in the room, with the exception of Dr. Lee, was imprisoned there, destined to sit there for another hour or so until they were able to go do whatever they wanted as long as it didn’t violate the rules. Of course, Luca only wanted to do what was against the rules which meant that she’d probably end up sitting in her empty room, wishing she were anywhere but there, imprisoned within those four white walls.

Suddenly, she heard someone’s stomach rumble. It reminded Luca of how hungry she really was. She could practically feel her own stomach aching. She wanted food, real food. No fatass, no food for you! Luca eyes the room nervously, checking to make sure that no one had noticed her. Everyone looked as they had before, completely normal. Of course they don’t see me. They can’t hear me. I’m in your head. Your crazy, screwed up head. Luca wanted to yell something at her but she didn’t. She was right after all. That’s when Luca spotted the table in the corner. It was only a few feet away, close enough for her to reach. On it were little boxes of raisins, mini chocolate chip cookies, and cans of coke, regular coke. No gum, no coffee, and absolutely no diet sodas. It was the exact opposite of an alcoholics anonymous meeting. Look away. Don’t even think about it Luca heard her whisper into her ear. Of course, it was all she could think about. She looked back into the middle, as if searching for some sort of sign. All she saw was Dr. Lee looking straight at her. she gave Luca a little nod as if giving her permission to take some food. In hear head, Luca went over the calorie counts of everything on the table. Coke, about 140 calories in a can. No. Mini cookies, probably fifty calories or so, but a cookie wouldn’t fill her up, she’d have to eat three or four and Luca knew herself well enough. Once she’d had three or four it would turn into a full on binge. She would drink a ton of soda and finish off all the cookies and the raisins, and then she would begin freaking out. Not patient enough to wait for it to run its course through her digestive system, she would run to the bathroom, stick her head in the toilet, and watch it all come up. It wouldn’t be lovely, but it had happened so many times before she hardly cared anymore. Finally, the raisins. They looked good, well, they didn’t look good, they looked kind of like old people, but the boxed were small, there were maybe one hundred calories in the whole thing. They would fill her up, enough anyway. Of course, the boxes could be packing in more calories than they seemed, but they probably had calorie counts on them anyway. Luca reached for one of them which made her go crazy. What do you think you’re doing. Get your hand away from those boxes. STOP IT! Luca could practically feel her tugging at her arm, pulling it away from the table. Suddenly, she slapped it. Luca was sure it had really happened she could feel the pain and her hand was turning red. She looked back to see if anyone had noticed. When she looked back at her hand it was back to its normal color. Wow, you really are crazy.

Not wanting to risk another confrontation, Luca focused her attention back on the people in the circle. A pretty blonde girl much prettier than you had begun to speak. Luca listened intently as the girl spoke, Dr. Lee had called her Grace. Grace, what a pretty name, much better they Luca. It sounded like a dog’s name. It was the name of that crazy, abused girl in Suzanne Vega’s song. An ugly name for an ugly girl. for some reason, Luca wondered to herself in Grace was graceful. Of course she’s graceful. She’s thin. You could be graceful too if you didn’t have all that fat hanging off you. Luca focused her attention back onto Grace. She listened to her problems. She found it hard to believe that one person could be so screwed up, but then she remembered who was breathing down her neck. She remembered that she was the one who was crazy. As she continued to listen, she began to feel sympathetic towards this girl. She seemed to be nice deep down, maybe a bit scared, but nice and here she was stuck with a life she hadn’t asked for. The girl suddenly seemed to drop a bomb on everyone. Sure, Dr. Lee had prompted her to share, but jeez, letting people know that you stripped for your counselor took balls and maybe some insanity (or in this case, quite a bit). As insane as this girl sounded, Luca couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed with this girl. Luca was too scared to show people her body period unless she was really piss drunk. But she doesn’t have to worry about that. She’s skinny. If you looked like her, you’d want to show off your body too. An awkward silence invaded the room, seeping into every corner. No one knew what to say so Luca took it upon herself to break the quiet. “Whoa!” Was all she could think of. A few people giggled a little, but for the most part people remained silent so she figured she had to say something else, something raunchy and uncalled for that would prove to Dr. Lee that she didn’t belong, something that would get her reprimanded and sent to her room, something that could get her out of there. “Lucky bastard! What did he say?!” Luca laughed, trying to show that she had been kidding. As soon as she thought about what she had just said, she realized how gay she sounded. She didn’t have a problem with homosexual people, it was just that she wasn’t one and these people didn’t know her well enough for her to pull that joke. shit. Now they think you’re crazy and into girls. Way to be stereotyped


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POST STATUS: complete
TEMPLATE CREDIT TO: sydknee says!
BANNER CREDIT TO: ME! (so don't steal!)
LYRICS CREDIT TO: So Rich, So Pretty by Mickey Avalon
ROLEPLAYING WITH: Grace
WHERE WE AT?: sunlit room, number one-oh-nine
WORD COUNT: one-one-four-seven
LOOKING LIKE: outfit here!
NOTES: as if! grace seems like such a good person.
ps. sorry for taking so long to respond. my AP exam is on thurs.