The TLDR of this story was I had returned home from a mental health facility only to be cast away by all my friends instead of being welcomed back with bittersweetness. In this time, I had found out that one of my friends-who had also recently been to a MHF-had told everyone that I had simply been doing it for attention and that I was fine, and more specifically that I was copying her for going. On top of that, I had found out that my ex, and ex best friend had talked so much shit on me to his mother she called me a junkie. Now, even if you said that now I wouldn't agree with you. Sure, I'm a pothead and I enjoy chain smoking when I'm stressed now [15] but in the 6th grade? Are you serious?? WHAT COULD HE HAVE SAID TO HER FOR HIS REHAB-COUNSELOR MOM TO CALL ME THAT? And the thing was, I hadn't touched nothin at that time except maybe I had a drink or two on sPeCIaL OcCaSSioNs. Looking back on it, it was likely the countless stories I told about my father who was a junkie. Not sure tho, never got an answer. He never bothered to apologize.