I have to stop fucking around.
Not drunk this time, and I'm determined not to have a panic attack while writing this. Four in the last three days is too many. I can have one after, but not during.
I went to class yesterday. It wasn't easy to concentrate through my hangover, and it was difficult to force myself out of the door. I kept checking the trees for long limbs and blank faces. You'll have to forgive me but I still can't handle writing the name. I think I read too much fantasy as a kid, but I somehow retained this idea that names have power, and I don't want to give it power by naming it. It's stupid, yes, but it might help in some tiny way.
I went to class and took my notes and didn't see Blue Scarf Guy (BSG from this point forward) and went straight to my car and then straight to Kevin's, where I stayed the night. And I'm sorry about that, too, because his girlfriend Sarah is mad at him now for letting me sleep over, although of course nothing happened. I had my third panic attack at his place, and he hugged me while I cried and trembled, although I couldn't tell him what was wrong. I can't let this spread. Not to Jess, not to Clara or Christian, not to my family, especially not to Kevin.
No, I'm not going to think about what I feel about Kevin right now, there's other things to worry about.
So I went to class yesterday and today, and tonight I locked all the doors and closed all the blinds, and I'm sitting in my living room with my baseball bat across my lap. I made an improvement to the bat, too. Also probably quite stupid, but it gives me a bit of comfort, and it doesn't hurt.
I have a wood burning tool for some reason, so I thought it would be a good idea to burn the (X) into both ends of the bat. Like I said, stupid, right?
And finally...one more apology. Not just for posting drunk, or posting so often, but for...being so weak and selfish, I suppose. I haven't seen the monster yet. I haven't been attacked or even threatened directly, unless those flowers were a threat of some kind. And here I am crying and having anxiety attacks and whining about not deserving what I'm getting. I mean, I don't, but aren't I following at least ten or fifteen blogs where people have it so, so much worse? And you're not giving up. You're fighting, or running, or falling in love. Some of you are even joking about it, which I can't seem to do unless I'm drunk out of my skull. And you're talking back to me. You care about some stupid girl on the internet and her dead friend enough to let me know you care.
I'm not denying any of the stuff I said in the last post: I'm still not a survivor. But I'm not going to give up so easily, and I'm going to try my best not to whine anymore. Compared to all of you, I haven't got the right. I won't let you down.
As far as the memory thing goes...I'm going to leave that alone for now. I think it might be better that I don't look too deeply into whatever past connection I have with this thing might be...right now I need to focus on the immediate situation. If that situation changes, I'll start exploring the past...but for now I'm just going to leave well enough alone.
One more thing: I've gone back and tagged all of the posts related to Jill and the monster with the (X), including the coded ones, and removed all the other tags. I guess there's no denying what this is now, and if anyone can learn from what's happening to me, or takes any comfort in knowing they're not alone, I'd like them to be able to navigate easily.
Okay, I've said my piece. I'll keep you updated, as well as I can with school and all. And I can feel that panic attack creeping up my rib cage, but at least I was true to my word. I got through this entry.