I cannot remember the last time I awoke from a dream feeling so frightened by the dark surrounding me. Mum ran into the room, going on about how I had woken her from her slumbers by screaming. She said I sounded as if someone were trying to murder me, and it is insanely ironic how correct she had been. That dream really is taking a tole on my life. It has been three days since I had the dream. In those three days I have hidden myself inside my bedroom once more in complete fright of those around me. Andy was the one who pulled the trigger in the dream, but anyone could really do it. Anyone could turn their back on me, completely destroying me with whatever they please.

Not that anyone would ever be able to destroy me worst than I already do to myself.

Mum wants me to see a therapist again. She assumes it will do me good. Having someone of a professional sort to help me through my problems, but I see no good in it. What would a therapist be able to do that Mum and others haven't already tried? Better so, what would a therapist be good for that this blog isn't? At least this way I am not forced to look upon the faces of those I am spilling my inner most thoughts to. I will never once see the judgment in your eyes for the words I say (or in this case, type) whereas with a therapist I will see it all. And I am not comfortable with this, not one bit.

I called Riktor yesterday, and he was happy to hear from me. I suppose to put that off far too long. He had done nothing wrong. I know he was just trying to look out for me; make me happy. I should have never pushed him aside. I asked him to come over. I want to tell him of the dream face to face. I also called Rhys, but he could not speak very long. He said he had to get back to work. I miss him. I haven't seen him since the day I had the nightmare.. We haven't had a real conversation since then as well.

Mum is calling for me. I'll update this again later.

Notes

title credit: turn it off - paramore