I woke up, it was a dingy type of apartment, dark blue lit from the flickering of a TV set down the hall in another room. They had Jenn, she was being kept in the bathroom, the door right across from where I was bound. I felt as though I had been drugged somehow, I couldn't focus, there was a hallway to my right that lead down to the bedroom, from where the TV set was mumbling quietly. I could hear Jenn in the bathroom, calling me, trying to wake me up. I told her to get out as quickly as possible, there was an air vent grate in the wall near the bathroom door. She managed to get into it, peering at me through the grate she told me she'd escape and get help. I told her to be as quiet as possible, I could hear her squirming through the vent, trying to get out. Just as I could hear her movements fading, a man walked down the hall and into the room where I was being kept, he was middle aged, rather short set and had curling gray hair, his eyes were a cold kind of mirth, dressed in a type of white lab coat; I knew instantly this was my captor, and I felt fear. He began to untie me, I was unable to move as he laid me out on the couch and began removing my clothing, pawing at the ropes and shreds of fabric, a type of greedy manic gleam coming into his eyes. He didn't speak all the while, I whimpered, trying to force myself to move. A woman entered the room, short set and pudgy, aged, with a strange cruel look to her face. She watched and giggled hideously as the drug wore off and I was able to struggle against the mans hands. They left the room after a while of prodding me and stretching me out across the floor as if I were a cadaver, all the while touching me like I was a play thing, digging their fingers into my breasts and stomach. I crawled off the couch, eying a backpack I knew was mine. It had my shoes and the rest of my clothing in it. I dragged myself over to it, pushing myself to my knees and putting on my pants and sweater as quickly as possible. I still felt dazed, but I was terrified. I knew I had reason to be. I stumbled to my feet and fled out of the house, passing the across the hallway that held the bedroom. I slipped out of the apartment and began to run. I fled on all fours (In most of my dreams, when I run, I flee on all fours.), my back pack slung on my back. I ran, feeling the terror knife through me as I tore down a back road, passing a green field with a red barn in the middle of it, in a frantic state of mind, I tossed my backpack in a hedgerow, turning around briefly to see a white car coming down the road. I knew it was them. I felt cold as I bolted, running on two legs now, I turned down another road and found myself in a small town/ city. Finding anyone, someone, I hid in a garage of an automotive dealership, begging for someone to help me. Crying. I knew I was going to be harmed if he found me. I clung to someone, crying, clinging at their legs as he found me and approached me, saying he just wanted to test me, to play with me. And that I was insane and needed help. He charmed the people, telling them I was unstable, all the while I remember, crying uncontrollably and clinging to someones legs, repeating "Oh gods please don't give me to him, he's going to hurt me, going to rape me. Please gods don't let him take me." The people in the garage began to pry me off the persons legs, and I ran, I fought them off, screaming and crying. They gave chase, he had melded them to his will. And I remember looking back, seeing him walking calmly behind the crowd that chased me, his eyes calm and his smile serene as tears blotted out my sight and I fell to all fours and began to run again. I remember the fatigue racing through my limbs, making me feel like jelly, I had no stability and I stumbled, tumbling head over heels, bleeding from scrapes and cuts. I continued to run, into suburbia, hiding in a house, I cowered in the closet of the hallway. I remember his footsteps in the hall as he opened the closet door and bent down to take me. I kicked, I screamed and fought, but he had me. And he shook me. Dragging me down the stairs, until I was a useless quivering heap of anxiety. He began to fit me into a jacket without sleeves, zipping it shut from behind, I was trapped. And I was his. My father and mother appeared and watched him take me, gripping me by my hair and dragging me to his white car. I screamed for them, and woke myself up. 

Today was a level day, I woke up, didn't spend much time on WoW. Harry wasn't on so there was no real point in staying on. I chatted with Faya, exchanged the customary greeting of 8D and BEANS! I had a shower and straightened my hair, and actually put on Lipstick and some mascara, the first make up I've worn in a -long- time. Went out only to realize that the wind made my eyes water a bit and that I was at large for getting raccoon eyes possibly. After a short dash to catch the bus I was safe. No dark circles. Fantastic! A short bus ride and walk later, I'm at the Superstore looking for my friend, Shelly. We went out for lunch, and went back to her work where I hung out with David, the photo audio guy, he missed me a lot. It was nice to get a hug from him. He walked me to work, which was uneventful save for the fact that the head cook sliced the back of his hand open, gods only know how he did it but I ended up cleaning it and bandaging it for him and sending him to the hospital for stitches. Other then that the day was alright. I plan to try to get to the gym tomorrow, I need to get back into the swing of things, now that I have feelings of motivation. I felt good today, I felt like I mattered, I was meaningful and actually a beautiful person.

I hope this lasts.

  So far, nothing has turned out the way I planned.
It was a big mistake trying to look into the future and plan ahead, and for doing so, boy did I end up on my ass. Beginning with Adam breaking up with me, I never saw -that- coming. It blindsided me with an emotional tsunami that drenched my mind with chaos and uncontrollable depression. It was the catalyst to life changing events, such as me finally going to a doctor for help...Then again it seemed help wasn't coming quick enough. I crashed what would be a week ago. Alcohol and pills had never looked better, even though later, Jenn told me it wouldn't be enough to do what I wanted, it would have still involved me damaging myself. They put me on Citolopram, to stop the anxiety and the crying, so far it has worked, although leaving me queasy and unable to eat. That side effect has worn off slightly, it's been helping me sleep, I can't help but wake up every morning though, and remember my dreams, every time I remember them, Adam is in them, somewhere, the worst one being of me lying in bed with him, resting my head on his chest and listening to him breathe and his heart beat. I awoke to tears streaming down my face and my chest full of stabbing pain, I lay on the bed paralyzed with my grief, I couldn't have moved if the whole aparment building had begun to fall down around me. I truly believed for a moment that I would die of heartbreak, because the pain was so intense it took my breath away. It was maddening, at every moment I tried to forget and distract myself, it would drag me down, as if gravity had worked its fingers into the fibers of my form and was slowly pulling me into the ground. I couldn't pull my head up above the current. And by the time I realized, I truly wanted to die, I knew it was time to help myself. And even then it took every ouce of strength I had to get myself out of my apartment and to the hospital. Before that, I called my mom and dad, crying uncontrollably and telling them that I loved them, and missed them dearly. The wait in the hospital was two hours, I was put in the GYN Examination room, I fell asleep curled up in the chair, as uncomfortable as that sounds, I was purely exhausted from the amount of crying I had done that day, my head ached, my eyes were sore and my stomach was a knot of sickness and worry.  Finally after two hours, the ER Doctor came to see me. After another twenty minutes or so, I was sent out the door with a perscription. I called Jenn, and my mom, I let them know I was alright, another woman who was leaving the Hospital gave me a ride to the Pharmacy and then home. All the while I couldn't help but wonder what I was going to do next. Would I take the pills? Would I finally try to find help? Or would I continue to lie dead in the wake of this events destruction. 

  I took the pills the next morning, dragging myself to work over the next few days, feeling nauseous and worrying that I was pregnant, my cycle still hadn't come, the tests were negative but I had a bad feeling in my gut, so to say, no pun intended.  Over the following days, I began to see an improvement, not a very happy state, but level, able to cope with the pain, dealing with it rationally. Sunday, Adam dropped off my things from his house, not two minutes after he left was I in tears, not uncontrolled just release of grief, icy cold chills spreading from my nerves and encasing my body in a sicking tingling electric feeling.  I sat on the floor in the hall with Jenn, crying and asking 'Why?'. It didn't last long, under medication, it wouldn't, it hurt of course, it burnt through my heart like fire, I put on a face though, I had a job interveiw to go to, and I wanted to try to make the best of the day. I went out with Jenn, she accompanied me through the day, even wandered around the store whilst I was interveiwed by the owner of the shop, a nervous looking man who couldn't seem to stop moving. Jenn and I spent the rest of the day roaming around town, visited the library and in the end came home. I made a cake and we had home made soup. Marcel was tired, he almost looked grumpy, but he cheered up when he had some of my cake. I went to bed that night, after reading a chapter or two of the "Bipolar Handbook" Jenn had found in the Library, I of course, wanting to now combat this disease with a passion, borrowed it. I see now, as I've read some of this book, that it was not, who I was at heart, that had screwed up so much of my life, but my disorder/disease of Manic Depression, which has played havoc with me since I was 17. And knowing now, that this is what partially made my relationship with Adam, defunct, I'm willing to throw my effort into finding a way to make myself better. Part of it is in hopes that he will take me back one day, a blind, fantasy and hope...but I have hope for the future, that maybe, just maybe, I can find a way to stay level, semi normal, and yet still possess that odd, crazed creativity that I've began to notice that I -do- possess.  In the past, I've discredited what people have told me, about myself, but in the past week, it seems as though my eyes have finally and truly opened. I looked at myself in the mirror a few nights ago and realized I am not half as heavy as I thought I looked, and that my frame, was actually rather lean. I looked good; minus of course the rings under my eyes and my disheveled hair, but even then I realized it had some kind of haunting quality of lovliness. Although the hollowness in my eyes still lingered, I knew I felt better, it was slow, but reassuring. I no longer felt alienated, I knew that my mother and father loved me, and that Jenn cared. She's been the most loyal friend to me in the past year, and I'm grateful for her having put up with me for the past while. And I'm endebted to her for it, on a friend to friend level. 

I'll get better, I want it badly enough. I know it will come, I'll be working for it every step of the way, but I can do it. I just need to keep telling myself that.