My dreams are becoming worse. Last night, Katie was in them again, but I don't remember what happened in those. Later, I dreamt of the werewolves coming after me. It was an awful feeling, because every time I woke up, breathing hard and legs stiff from running, I went back to sleep, hoping the next time he would catch me. And eventually, he did. Things kept popping through my head like "razor sharp" and "the pain will only last for a bit if I run at him." When that moment came, I stood before a monster and let him destroy me, and when I woke up, all I felt was a quick pang of sadness that it wasn't real.
I shouldn't be having these thoughts and dreams. I'm getting to the point that I'm really worried this is something I won't be able to come out of. I don't want do to or think these thinks, but that little voice whispers in the back of my head. I've drank myself to sleep some many times since I've been home. It seems to be the only way that I can make myself tired enough to get to that point. And every time I'm drunk, whether it's alone or with people, I'm that much more content with the world, because it has shit on me and there's nothing anyone can do about it. It's scary how close to this edge I feel. Closer than I've ever felt before. Sitting on the edge, looking down. Spitting to see how long it would take me to hit the bottom. Wondering what I would think about on the way down. Maybe everyone should ask themselves that question... If you were falling to your death, doesn't matter the distance, what would be the thoughts going through your head? And in addition to that... who can really answer that question honestly?
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