Pocrescophobia

Well, it's officially been two months in this state, and tomorrow, I'm going back. And just thinking of that sends me into near hyperventilation. Oh no no no no, what am I going to do? Why did I ever do this? Oh lawd. Well, there's no changing it. Unfortunately. I wish that I could stay here. But it does kind of make me feel better to remember that I get to get away from Myles' puppy eyes that are staring into mine every single time I turn around. I swear, every time I look anywhere, he's there, looking at me with this broken expression that just makes me feel like I slaughtered Santa in front of a newborn litter of puppies. Son of a bitch. Perfect son a bitch.

Pros: I get away from the guy that makes me feel immensely guilty and sad. I get to see my parents again, I guess. I get to see Cheyenne and a few of my other real friends again.

Cons: I have to see Cyan again. I have to see Cyan again. I have to see Cyan again. Hmm, and Tamryn's nice, so it sucks to leave her. Oh, and I have to see Cyan again. And my parents might send me to a rehab.

That's the main thing on my mind every time I think about it. That bastard. Even when he's not here, he can't fucking leave me alone. I guess that it's useless to try to escape him. To run away from my problems. I have to face them sometime. Face him sometime. And that time is coming sooner that I'd like, but it's coming. And I have to accept it and move on.

Ha. Wishful thinking. I can't let go of anything. I hold grudges from years ago. I still internally--and sometimes externally--wince at words that I said in 5th grade. This is going to effing suck.

=

Overall, this trip's been pretty good for me. For once, I wasn't constantly worrying about things. Well, I wasn't worrying about as many things, at least. Oh poop, this is going to be really difficult. But I can't be a coward anymore. I won't be a coward anymore. I have to face my demons. Even if they scare the shit out of me and fuck me up psychologically so that I might never fully heal.

=

Unlike last drive, I stay up all night and sleep the entire way back. I'm barely awake when my parents pull up with tears in their eyes, ready to finally take me home. I can sense their disappointment when they hug me and I feel even skinnier. I don't know why, they should be happy that I'm losing more of that unwanted fat. I did gain a few pounds though, forcing me into a few unavoidable panic attacks. And they were even worse than any that I've ever had before. I'm starting to get worried by this point. Because I've had some really bad ones. What if they get even worse?

Oh bother, I'm starting to get worked up again. Calm down, Arden, calm down. After a few minutes of deep breathing and trying to take my mind off of it, I finally get myself back in order. Phew.

But anyway, it wasn't until like 10 that we finally got back because traffic was utterly horrible that day. Although, when we finally pull up, I stumble into the house, falling on the couch. Not really because I'm so tired, just because the couch is really comfortable and I missed it. Oh, couch, I love you so. The next thing I know, I'm pulled into a tight hug from behind and I yelp, jumping back in surprise, falling back into the couch. But the person just pulls me back. I somehow manage to get away and turn around to face my brother.

"Arden, I missed you so much!" John says excitedly. He's like a little puppy. I chuckle a little, sinking into the couch comfortably. "I missed you, too," I mumble, closing my eyes. Okay, maybe I'm a little tired. But I guess I should be. I ended up waking up after about 8 hours and just stayed up the rest of the time. I should be relieved that I'm tired instead of not getting tired until 2ish, and then I become horribly sleep-deprived. It happens a lot, actually.

And tomorrow's the day of... doom. Eh, doom's a silly word. Tomorrow's the day of... cataclysm. Oh, yes. But I'll try to make the best of it. Think more about Cheyenne and some of my favorite teachers rather than my impending doom. Hey, it might be better than I think. Oh, who am I kidding?

=

I wake up bright and early in the morning, already half ready for a panic attack. There's no way I can do this. Not without a lot of force. Once I'm in the shower, I just sit on the wet floor and let the hot water pour down on me as I grab my knees with my arms and press myself up against a corner, trying to take deep breaths. Okay, Arden, you can do this. You can do this. You need to do this. After a few minutes, I finally stand up, shaking a bit, but resignedly wash my hair and body, not being able to look at myself like usual. Can't bear it.

I take my dear time in my room to dress, making sure to put on more layers than usual. I can't risk anything this time. But what's the use? Everyone's seen me already. I take a few layers off, leaving me in the usual amount. It's pretty hot out anyway. But I finally sit on the couch, waiting for Cheyenne to pull up, like our usual routine. She's probably going to show up earlier than usual seeing as I've been basically missing from her life for the past two months.

Just as I thought, she shows up soon, her usual morbidly giggly self, attempting to catch me up on stuff that she's forgotten she already told me on the phone. We did talk regularly, after all. But it was still nice to see her smiling face again. I really did miss her a ton. And I definitely know that she missed me, too.

And then the time comes that we have to leave. Truth be told, she had to literally drag me out of the house, with a little help from my brother. But eventually, I was seated in her car, knees pulled up into my chest. She drives slowly, but we still get to the school fairly quickly. She stops the car and swiftly steps out, leaving me alone in the car. She's probably going to have to drag me out again. Oh, she puts up with so much.

Oh well. It's time to go. I take a deep breath as I step out of the car, barely able to stand. Well, here goes.