Mess. It's all a big fucking mess.

Still no beer, still on cigarette 'rations'. Still 'fine' (Cause I'm a real good faker).

The real deal is... now I need to get in the shower and go to bed and I FEEL LIKE SCREAMING.

*****Edited at 6:33 A.M. to add...

Y'all may as well know the rest. Below is the email I sent to the therapist Tuesday morning. Things are not much different 24 hrs. later. (And the thing with the neighbor is RAPE, followed later by theft, followed later by an attempt to break into my bedroom through the backdoor of the house in the middle of the night, followed immediately by me screaming, followed about five seconds later by my abusive, but otherwise loving and protective father clad in his undies and looking very wild and dangerous, kicking down the door with a loaded gun to simultaneously save me and scare me half to death. The (now) imaginary smell that preceeded the first act of torture (rape) by the neighbor is POT. Summer is just brimming with loveliness. Just like fall. And the holidays. And my children's birthdays. AND THAT is what makes me a fucking saint simply for never having killed anyone. Yes, a fucking saint. Cause some people need killin'. And I could use a drink, but the Rambo man says it is unwise and a bad deal for everyone aboard this here ship, so there is no alcohol here anymore.)


Jesus H. Somebody shoot me, huh? Here is the email: --

I'm getting really scared again. I was okay today until it was time to go to bed. I'm afraid to take a shower and I'm afraid to go to bed. I went out to smoke. It's dark out there and humid. Damp. I heard a neighbor's car start and I had a fast little snatch of memory. It was dark and the front passenger side door of a car was open. I was there. I think I was getting in the car. There was dew and condensation. I think it was very early in the morning. I thought of my father. I think I was getting in the car with him. I'm a little afraid that something bad might happen to me. I don't like weird little bits of things that go to nothing. And I don't like suddenly feeling fear and dread for no reason, either. These things happen more whenever I give up pills or alcohol or smoking. This is why something new always moves in to take the place of some fucked up thing that I quit. It's why I have nearly always been either a slut, a lush, a pill head, a smoker, an anorexic, or usually a combination of two. As soon as I got rid of one thing, another came up to keep the crazy away until that started making me crazy (or sick), too. There has been no drinking and I mean it this time, but I don't want a new disaster to take the place of the old one. I want to get off this insane merry-go-round. Plain old hypochondria is plenty bad enough, but I know how destructive drinking is and doing it anyway contributes to the fear of disease and makes me crazier that way. Smoking, too. I have knocked the smoking down drastically. The problem for me is not addiction, it's about the emotional chaos that makes me desperate. I don't crave alcohol or have a desire to smoke more cigarettes than I have been. The problem is what happens when I don't have any way to escape. I don't need help with what you think I do. I need help to JUST BE and have that be okay. I'm scared. I'm afraid to exist and I'm afraid not to. Last night I could not leave (husband) alone because I was so afraid. I was stuck to him like velcro. I don't like being a six foot roll of cling wrap. It feels icky. And I'm trying not to bother (husband) now so he can sleep normally, but I'm just really scared. And to top it all off, I have not exactly been experiencing my body as being of the female variety during the day. Yes, I think I know what this is. I am being offered a new way to get my freak on. I must say, I think I like this one, but somehow I don't think the chicks are gonna dig me. I dig me, though. In straight legged jeans when I can pretend to not see certain illusion-spoiling differences. A man was hitting on me at the gas station while I was in this state. I know he saw me as a woman, but I still think he must be gay.

The summer thing is about more than one issue. I know that now. You know what else? It was the teenage girl who started smoking and drinking. It was the only way to keep going back then because things were so unbearable. I got shoved into something the other day. It was her. I remembered something from summer. That was the time when there was no school and I was stuck with my family and my father rarely allowed me to leave the house. It was then when I had that 'dream' that my father came to my bed and had sex with me. I didn't know whether or not it was a dream and I still don't know. And I had so many panic attacks then and I didn't know why. I only knew that I was scared and stayed up too late and woke up very early in the morning afraid that I was going to die. And it was summer when my father said, "I know you think I'm terrible, but some fathers rape their daughters." When he said that I thought of that nasty 'dream'. At the same time I also thought he only meant that beating someone is at least better than raping them (and I remember now that I had just gotten into his car with him when he said that - but it was daytime, not dark). Then I remember feeling really, really nasty inside a couple of months later when he grilled me about who the father of my baby was when I found out I was pregnant. I had the creepy feeling that he was trying to rule out himself. There was also a morning a few days ago (Saturday?) where I got into bed and was tortured by the thing I told you about with the neighbor. There was a smell connected to that that has come around to bother me, too. I thought I was going to die Sunday morning.

Summer is not only about teenage stuff, but I don't have those other things right now. I stayed in for a couple of days and used my broad spectrum lamp because it looks like pure daylight in a more cheerful, better way than the summer sun for reasons I don't fully understand. It is 'crispier' somehow and less oppressive and sweltering? That's the only way I can explain it. The 'crispy' caused a couple of flashes where things were like autumn. This isn't good either because I'm terrified of Halloween. That's why I'm no fun with my toothbrushes and dental floss. I don't really give a crap about the neighbor kids' teeth, I just pretend to because spoiling other people's fun is better than being afraid. I need to try to go to bed, but I'm scared and I don't feel good.