It wasn’t exactly my idea to start a diary. I don’t really like them, and I never kept one when I was alive. So why do it now? Simple, my shrink decided that it would be a good idea for me to “express myself” in some creative way. I guess he thinks diaries are creative. I don’t know. Mine isn’t.
Why would a zombie even see a shrink? Well, apparently my parents didn’t think that I was handling being dead very well. I wasn’t being social and some stupid stuff like that. I wonder why that is… Even though I’ve been seeing this shrink though, I’m pretty much still the same. Funny thing about us dead folks, we don’t tend to grow too much.
But my shrink, Dr. Smiley, no joke on that one, it’s his actual freaking name. I wonder if it helps his other, more normal patients. He does kind of smile a lot I guess, although I think maybe his face just got stuck that way because it looks pretty fake to me. Anyways, back to the doctor, he always asks stupid questions to which I don’t really have answers to. I mean, I answer, but he just doesn’t like my answers. Says I’m not actually trying to get better or something. I’m dead, what does he want from me, seriously?
Like, this was our last session:
Dr. S: So how are you feeling today?
Dr. S: And how does that make you feel?
Dr. S: How have your friends handled this?
Me: Do you mean the ones I didn’t eat already?
Dr. S: Well, how do your other friends feel about you eating some of your friends?
Me: I don’t know, they won’t talk to me on account of me eating people.
Dr. S: Did you apologize?
And it goes on like that for the rest of the session. And yeah, I ate some of my friends. But that was like, right at the beginning. I didn’t know what I was doing, for real. If you’ve never come back from the grave, you don’t understand. It takes awhile for your brain to sort of kick back in. And I am sorry, but it’s not like I can really fix it now, now can I? Nope…
Which is why this entire diary thing is stupid, seriously. I don’t know any other zombies. We don’t have support groups. We don’t have a Zombiebook.com to chat with each other and like pictures of brains or something. The doctors have said there are others like me out there. The dead that just come back, zombiefied. But I haven’t actually seen any proof. Not like the doctors would lie about that. Just like they weren’t lying when they told my parents I wouldn’t come back a second time, that they had a cure after I did come back again. People don’t lie. They just don’t tell the truth.
But who knows, maybe if I keep this up, someday another zombie will find it and I’ll have a friend. Or someone can tell me what’s going on and how to get back to normal. Or we can just plan to take over the world. Either way.
Well, that’s all for right now I guess. Dr. Smiley will be happy I wrote about feeling. Kind of. Until next time, try not to get bit.