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February 20th, 2020
12:07 PM
That was my first leave. I'm still depressed as can be. I wrote my mom one letter but I tore it up. It feels like I'm never gonna get out of here, but it feels like it'll be July in no time. I think it's nuts they think what I got is "just a little bit of homesickness." Right now they have us in quarantine. It's hell. I'm not too sure what they'll do about our schooling. I just want to be out of here. I can see another mental breakdown on the horizon. I don't really mean that. Everytime I get real freaked out I think about how normal E is and how she shouldn't have such a madman like me for a boyfriend. I'm gonna read for a little bit.
4:09 PM
I hope this doesn't turn into rambling, but if you want to know the truth, I'm driving myself insane. We could be in here for the next two weeks. The place is too much, but I can't back down now. We've got 90 days here. It doesn't feel like it's gonna end, and no one cares about how miserable you are - you gotta [redacted]. [...]. Christian Shumate do f--ked up. No one knows his name and he's stuck at MCA's Plague Ward until he graduates. He will feel every second of it. Time is crawling. This is hell. What kills me is out of all the times I have to be stuck in, this is the one I'm stuck in. Time flew during first leave, but it sure won't fly now. I have a lump in my throat. I want to carve it out, I want to slam my head until I am not here. I'm here forever, and nobody knows how much I hate it. I can't move, I can't do anything, I can't sleep. I'm going to die. My heart will give out or I'll have a seizure or I'll have an episode or something. I want to tell the squad leaders that I'm not sick, but I can't. God, I'm so miserable. I'm dying. I just have to make it till they turn on the lights for time to speed up. I'm always saying I have to make it to some point for things to speed up but they never really do. I've begged god to speed things up, but I don't think he can do that. I'm so pitiful. Maybe after whole quarantine mess is over, things will speed up. After that it'll be March. After March we only have 2 and a 1/3 months left. March and April are the two big months. I just found out what time it is. My ass is starting to get sore. I got up for a second. My body feels weeks, I'll probably lose all my muscle and become a weak skeletal goblin. I feel a little better, I know nothing has changed. I hate this so much. When I get home, I will never be mean to any one again. I feel so damn weird. I got the weirdest feeling about this. I don't want to do any homework. I don't know what I'll do, I don't understand it. I mean I guess I can do it, but I still feel like I am dying. I told Mr. Ruth that I am not sick, he said he'd tell someone else, but I don't really believe him. I don't really believe anyone. I'll start my homework. I'm too depressed. This whole place is killing me. I don't know how I am going to make it. Chow is coming up the stairs. I hope they give us letters. It feels awful being cooped up.
8PM
I do not know what the time is. But I am feeling a little better. Hopefully I get some sleep. I slept some, but I might get out tomorrow. I'm not a madman anymore. I'm not a madman right now. Bachman is the private pile of class 1-20. They're doing med call right now. They turned out the lights, so nevermind. I really hope I can get some sleep. I am going to make it through somehow. It has been February 20th, 2020 for what feels like forever. I'll write after breakfast tomorrow.
February 21st, 2020
7AM
Thank the lord that it is not February 20th, 2020 anymore. That was actual, literal hell. Hopefully a day will never go that slow again. It is over though, so that is all that matters. 78 days till graduation minus Saturdays and Sundays, Vascoy's math. 113 days counting weekends. 12 phone calls until second leave, Starcher's math. I want and/or need a cigarette. Today the nurse is coming by to check all of our temperatures. Hopefully she will let me leave. I'm pretty sure I'll get my letters to my mom soon. Wheeler said me and him should join the military together. That would be awful, Wheeler's trying to talk me into it. I think he just wants someone to join with him. But anyway, imagine me and Wheeler down in Iran, smoking a foreign-branded cigarette, down in the barracks, I'm reading Proudhon, he's reading some boiler-plate army novel. He's currently trying to talk to me about putting salt on snails, it's very stupid, and I'm laughing my ass off. Two men in a psych ward. That's what it feels like with all this thinking crap. The thing in itself. It's a shame I couldn't appreciate things while I was home. I've been thinking about E. That'd suck if it did. But I was thinking about how calm things with her around. Hell, what I'm most excited for is to see the sunspots in her eyes. I know it's such a tiny detail but it is beautiful. It'd be a pretty big contender for her smile.
5:14 PM
Praise the lord! I am not a mad man at the present moment. I have seen hell, that place was awful and if you want to know the truth - I'm scared of whatever state I was in. It was awful, but when I moved to my old bunk, I'd never been more happy in my life. There's mail in the middle of the gym. I'm going to read now. I love everyone on this planet.
7:12 PM
I've wrote my mom three letters today. So much has happened for one day. If you want to know the truth, I feel sort of lonesome, but if that's the worst way I feel for the rest of my time here - I'll take it. I miss E like hell. I feel like I messed up somehow. I finally finished Of Mice & Men, it was pretty good. I'm gonna get For Whom The Bell Tolls next. I'm not too sure what it is about, but I'll figure it out. Wednesday. My emotions have and how I love everything. I don't think I have anything wrong with me besides my psychotic idea of religion and my extremely rare laughing fits. I'd love for someone to crawl inside my head and figure out what is wrong with me. I hate feeling like I am in a 20's horror story. When I was in quarantine, I felt like I was that story - "The Yellow Wallpaper." I'm real scared about the entry I wrote on the 20th. I want to be as far away from that date as possible. 2/20/20 should live in as much infamy as 11/22/1963. It's over now so that's all that matters. Right now I'm thinking about D and the way she wore my hat, well more specifically the moment I looked over at her, and she didn;t know it, but I was trying to soak in every single thing I could about that moment.
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