Dear God I just don’t know if I can do it. I woke up dreaming about a house in the forest with a few other large houses next to it. There were a lot of glass windows and sliders. I was walking around the woods one afternoon when a group of prisoners took me away. I was headed for jail but we were sentenced by guards to cross the mountain. Coyotes. Guns. Rape. It was terrible and so real. Nic was looking for me, I could tell, but I didn’t know where to find him. The prisoners and I ended up in a big house somewhere remote where a prison guard pulled a giant switch on one of the walls. The entire house was plunged under water. Somehow I got out and started running back to the house with glass windows. Days and days later I made it.
The last part of the dream was me looking out the sliding door at night and waiting. I knew they would find me and bring me back, but I had no other place to go and I didn’t want to leave anyway.
I can’t stop crying. This is terrible. It’s valentines day and I want to call my mom, but I know if I do, I’ll end up telling her everything and she’ll get worried and I just wanted so bad to be alright. I wanted to move to Philly and prove that I could hold my own. I hate myself. I hate every part of me. I hate my hair. I hate my shoulders. I hate my brain. I hate everythig. every goddamn last thing. I don’t think things are going to get better. I thought about ending it. I always fuck that up too. I thought about going home. I fuck that up too. There’s nothing left. nothing except a house underwater.
No, Rebecca. Remember the first day was worse. It was colder. You were sicker. There was less to eat. Now you’ve got to get up. Put on your makeup. Brush your hair. Clean yourself up. I know no one is home now, and it may feel like you’ve lost your support group, but this is the time to prove that you can be alright. It’s valentines day. You’re going to make it.
I hope so.
I know so.