CONTENT WARNING: Disturbing imagery lies within. May trigger anxiety / PTSD.
I'm not quite sure why I'm writing these down, but I think it has something to do with a) keeping tabs on my mental health, and b) hopefully finding some story inspiration in them. May as well get *something* out of them. >.< If you want the last update, you can find it here.
Note that these are not particularly coherent, but the shards of memory I had upon awakening. Only items in  have been added as sort of editor's notes after the fact.
For some reason, I was at home [parents' place] (staying in my room) and everything was tense, but alright. I think at some point (don't remember it - reconstructed) I decided that I as done and basically stopped talking. TERRIFIED of mom, getting worse and worse, tension ramping exponentially. Somehow I was more comfortable with my dad, and invited him into room, gently told him. This was the last time, and he cried, but understood (or thought he did?). Couldn't leave, ever. >.< I will not ever return, not even for their funerals.
Terrified in a hotel room or dorm, racing between the levels. Trying to find the car and the right floor to exit on. Keep guessing wrong. Wrong elevator, wrong floor, strange signs on the floors. Shopping mall on one??? Parking below ground but above some rooms? Can't find it, just want to be safe! >.< Crying, desperate, sacred. Sobbing, dying, black. Crying, crying, crying, bleeding choking trying to hold neck together throat cut no voice. Crying, choking on blood.
Chased around workplace by someone with a gun. Someone who wanted to murder me specifically. Very, very angry. Enraged. I think coworkers may have tried to help, but it still feels like they abandoned me. >.< Ended up racing up and down elevators trying to hide, then stairs (pairs non-intersecting?) next to elevators first, then another set at one end of the building? Other end had one too? [May be memories of College of Dupage?]
Eventually ended up racing down the hall on the third floor and recognized it. It was the second floor of the main building at my highschool. Ducked into (or tried to) one of the offices and ended up shot in the back, blew out a lung. Throat cut by a knife.
I died on the operating table. But somehow, some small piece of me refused to die. Extensive cybernetic surgery followed, replacing my brain, spine, and some other parts, and I eventually woke up, but I was dead. Some sort of precious, one-of-a-kind arithmetic engine was slotted into my brain, and I was finally able to cry. >.<
Before I passed out again, I held my kitty close and made them promise that when I finally died, they would give it [the engine] to my daughter, whose life it might finally save.
More crying, feeling of being ripped / whole, and woke up.