I'm hoooome! :D. It's funny, though -- I only got in the door about twenty minutes ago, and I'm already starting to notice about a dozen different little things that I am only now realizing contributed to my depression and hopelessness before. Some of the things I have come up with include:

-- Even though my bedroom is painted a light shade of green-blue, I really should have painted it something even lighter -- icy blue, perhaps, or maybe even a really light yellow. Reason being? My room is quite dim -- dimmer than any other room in the house. The second I walked into it I felt like I was walking into a dungeon. That's all right when I'm sleeping, but to live in... well, that's an entirely different story. My solution is that I'm gonna have to put up a bunch of those National Geographic pictures, and maybe some celeb and/or fashion pics, too. Hopefully that will brighten up the room enough that it will be fit to spend more than sleep time in.
-- Extraordinarily loud and obnoxious noises above my head in the form of my sister being an annoying 14-year-old. I had a mini epiphany about this as I realized: That's not normal behavior, even for a 14-year-old. That's being rude. And I shouldn't have to put up with that kind of bullshit -- and, in fact, I will not. I can stand her playing a bit of music above my head, but her playing with random, jarring computer sounds on full blast is NOT OKAY. You guys understand where I'm coming from, right?
-- I also realized that any conversation I have with my mother almost inevitably leads to me feeling like shit, because she and I have such completely different ways of thinking that sometimes it's like smashing my head repeatedly into a hard wall to get her to understand even simple concepts. It exhausts me and frustrates me and leaves me tired and irritable. Solution? I'm just going to avoid talking to my mother whenever possible. It is absolutely the only thing I can do. Believe me when I say I've tried every fucking thing I know to get along with this woman, and I am honestly not sure if it's even possible. And trying to squeeze myself into a mold that she will understand and accept, as I have also only recently realized, plays and has played quite a large role in the development of my mental illnesses. Well, I can't and won't try to squish and choke and restrain myself anymore for her, because it makes me far too sick when I try.
-- Spending too much time on the internet. I'm pretty sure I was, and probably still am, a true internet addict. I mean, I was literally spending at least 8-9 hours a day, every single day, on this bloody machine, whether I actually wanted to or not, and whether I actually enjoyed it or not. It started as something that I really loved and had fun with, and grew and grew until it eventually dominated my waking hours. These last two weeks at the hospital have helped me to figure out the kinds of things I like to do when I don't have a computer around. That sounds really simple and rather inane, but it's so true. I actually never knew what I liked to do with my spare time when I didn't have either social gatherings/outings or the computer to fill it up. Now that's what I call sad. That is one benefit I got out of being in a psychiatric unit, at least -- the ability to figure out how to keep myself occupied without resorting to the internet.

So yeah. Clearly, I've been doing a hell of a lot of thinking over these last two weeks spent cooped up in a mental ward. I didn't have much else to do, really... haha. But, seriously, I've managed to come to a lot of new conclusions -- healthier ones! -- and I'm glad for that. I've got a whole new outlook on just about everything, one that I never imagined I'd ever have, and I'm grateful for that. In summary, I've gained a new sense of self as well as a larger measure of hope.

It's really amazing how such a short period of time can sometimes change so much.