zetasyanthis: (Default)
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.
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
<Undated>
 
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.
 
<Undated>
 
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.
 
<6/24/2017>
 
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.

Nightmares

Dec. 26th, 2016 04:51 pm
zetasyanthis: (Default)
[Writer's note: I made myself write this one, because I need too, not because it's comfortable. Disturbing, violent imagery follows. You've been warned.]

The last couple of nights have been rough ones. Nightmares, one actually recurrent (the first time I've actually had one of those), have haunted me pretty badly and left me exhausted, even after what should be a solid night's rest. Thankfully, I'm writing this after two nights of relatively safe sleep, but if I tell you that I took my emergency Lorazepam for the first time, I think you'll understand.

The first night, I dreamt of fire... fire and water. I was a marine, or some manner of soldier on a river with (indistinct) others, and the area we were in was very hot. Gunships raced the skies above, and though I could see everything both from the ground and a bird's eye view simultaneously, I could feel the adrenaline racing through my heart. The dream lasted hours, finally disappearing into a fog after a last massive spike of terror. A massive airship, a bomber, I think, was shot down above us and came crashing down into the river. I tried to dodge it, and *mostly* made it, but so many died. The entire river erupted in flames and terror and crying. >.< I could smell the burnt flesh, and the screams ripped into my heart like a knife.

The second night was even worse, though I cannot remember it now. Recalling the first to write what I have has blanked it from my memory, but only for now, I suspect. >.< The one recalled above was my first recurrent nightmare, and I am absolutely certain the second will revisit me again too. >.<

As for the Lorazepam... I took it on the third night, and it worked, much as I was afraid it might. I had the most restful sleep I've had in what is probably months, and that's a dangerous thing to finally see. >.< The fact that I slept through any negative effects it would have had on me means my first impression was 100% positive, and that's not good. It's hard not to take it now.

That said, I'm not going to take it again, unless I absolutely need it, and I'm going to be speaking to my doctor about it at the next visit. I'm honestly really scared that it made that much of a difference. I actually felt like a safe, happy human being for most of the next day.

Nightmare

Dec. 8th, 2016 12:25 am
zetasyanthis: (Default)
I promised myself I'd write this today, and having failed to do so so far, I just remembered right before going to bed.

I had a hell of a nightmare this morning, and I think I need to write it down.

I can't remember exactly why, but I apparently travelled home to may parent's house for the holidays, staying in my old room, or maybe my brother's. My parents were not open-minded. The whole situation was *extremely* tense, with awkward non-acknowledgements, tense dinner situations, and everything just as miserable as I remember it. I was absolutely terrified the entire time, freaking out about why I'd come, why I'd stayed there of all places, and what I could do to escape. I'd do anything to escape.

I remember my father raging, his hands trembling as he forcefully ate, as though the steak in front of him was the cause of his offense... as though if he buried himself in it enough, I wouldn't be there anymore. I remember that fear. That same scene played out the night I told him, the night I ran, virtually in terror, from his car back to my room. I remember my heart pounding as I slammed the deadbolt, his imagined footsteps in my heart. I remember crying. >.<

If you ever have any children of your own, please... please love them. >.< And be gentle in that love. >.<

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Zeta Syanthis

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