tw: fear and description of fear

i feel like posting something up, so here. have this something i wrote to calm myself so i can go to sleep after the ordeal. i probably (i do) sound pathetic at the end, but realize some of my ways of dealing with things aren't exactly what one would call "mature". xD

also, beware abrupt shift of POV and possible shifting of tenses, and bad grammar all around.

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sept 3 2011 4:12am

still can't sleep. i think it's the fear and the remembrance of fear. somewhere in the back of my mind i remember that helpless, panicky fear of being all alone in an apartment where two guys -- possibly with arms -- trying to break down your door and enter your apartment. and you can't think of grabbing anything to protect you (you even forget the knives you have in the kitchen and the scissors in the drawer). you're leaning against the door, pushing back when they're trying to push it open, frantically firing possibilities in your mind and should i stay or should i go? should i run to my room grab my phone and laptop and call the police or should i stay here and just hope to God they don't break the door down and wait for them to just LEAVE? but you figure this is something that takes action, not just your usual passive way of sitting there and squeezing your eyes shut and hoping it goes away and everything is going to be alright. this isn't one of your imagined phantoms; this is real, and this is happening. right now. and you could die. right now. if you don't do something. don't be stupid, don't be stupid. you abandon the futile situation at the door and you run to the room and grab your phone and run in your bathroom. shit shit shit no this is too open they'd find you here. run back out to your room and grab your laptop. shit shit shit should i leave through the glass doors first. shit. you try to open the glass doors (which are actually your back doors), fiddling and yanking on bolts and locks and handles. it. wont. fucking. open. shit. you're making a lot of noise because of the blinds i don't know how to open this fucking shit fucking. you run in your roommate's room and close the door quietly, use your iphone as a flashlight to find another door to ANYWHERE you can further hole yourself in. you choose a door and think it's the bathroom and close it quietly. you drop sit and oh you're in a closet and you call the police. hello i someone's trying to break into my apartment!

you remember all that and you remember that niggling paranoid fear that the two guys managed to break in and were hiding INSIDE the damn apartment and waiting for you to come out and take you hostage or some shit.

you remember the idea of screaming and yelling at them through the door, possibly with your manly voice made manlier, but you also remember that you shot down that thought because you were afraid they did know you were there and you were afraid you would get raped. and in all frankness, getting raped is worse than getting killed.

you were hardly hysterical, just hands trembling and a bit wobbly on your feet and dry-crying for the most part, with some tears and running nose, but you eventually calm down. when you go still enough and try to calm your inner lungs to let the emotions out, you end up scrunching up your face and dry crying shoulders shaking, so you stop. you figured you can cry another time. you're good at repressing these things. so you were able to be coherent to the point that you think the police won't half believe what you said just happened (the door, though its frames were definitely damaged and there were signs and marks of attempted forced entry, was still locked and closed when they arrived). you think you're lucky your neighbors were at home and they saw the two guys too and as it turns out they called the police too.

"dyou have any ex-boyfriends? ex-girlfriends?" your officer asks, and you laugh a little shakily and say "no, no." in hindsight you think you're lucky you had such a cool officer.

this isn't all the details, but that isn't what you're aiming for right now. you think you remember the fear and that the more you think about it, you'll be afraid of staying home alone now. will be more wary. more afraid.

when you were hiding in the closet you've posted fb statuses because you thought even if something bad happened to you at least your friends and family would know (where to start investigating). you get comments and text messages and you couldnt answer to them not at that moment.

and after everything and giving your testimony you talk to your family and to your friends and they help. they do help. they make you feel a bit lighter, less alone. you're touched by how much they care.

but this fear bubbling up in you now is something that can only be dealt with internally, and its borne of thinking too much and being more paranoid.

so you can't sleep.

and it's kind of crazy, but no one's awake now, and you're tired, and exhausted, and you don't want to call your friend because it will only succeed in making you delay your sleep, to hang on to that comfort, so the best thing you think of doing is taking comfort from inside your head and imagining your favorite superheroes telling you it's alright, it's ok, we're here to protect you.

and you finally convince yourself to go to sleep.

sept 3 2011 4:41 am