Entry — Age 17, three weeks out

Somewhere away from the home they'd lived in for years.

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I slept in a hostel last night. Eight people in the room, six of whom snored. I slept better than I have in months.

The power is different out here. Louder, somehow. This morning I reached for my boots and they slid across the floor to meet me before I could stand up. I didn't intend that. I stood there looking at them for a while.

It's like — all this time I thought the problem was me. The ceiling I kept hitting. The pencil that wouldn't move. And then you take away the room and suddenly there's no ceiling, just open air going up and up, and you have to recalibrate everything you thought you knew about what you're capable of.

I don't know if that's better. I don't know yet.