Survival

Part 19

I often have not nice thoughts.

I often cry.

I continuously thing about it.

I cannot deal with that alone. I cannot. In less than a day I will meet the psychologist. In less than a day A new life might start.

A new life in which I can control my anxiety, my panic attacks, and the demons that are consuming my soul.

Tomorrow the good guy will celebrate his birthday, that it is already happened. I do not know anyone. Almost anyone. There is a boy I know, the friend that made me know the birthday boy.

I fear. I fear I would not feel comfortable. I fear I might not be enough. I fear they are going to force me to drink alcohol. I fear they are going to talk about motorbikes. I fear they are going to say stupid things that may hurt me. I fear being touched, even just for the handshake to know each other.

I shacked his hand when I met him. The other one touched my hand when I did not want to. I would have so many horrible memories. I fear. Maybe I should not go. But I do not want to regret it.

I would love to go. But I do not want to have panic attacks at the party. I do not want others to worry about me.

Maybe I suffer from social anxiety. I do not know. At school I do not feel comfortable. At the party I fear I will not feel comfortable. I am anxious even with just one person. But in a group so many things may happen.

During Christmas, in the new family I had just for Christmas, they forced me to drink. They almost wanted to fool me telling me there was not alcohol in whatever they were giving to me. I have never believed in that.

As I have never believed when the first boy that harassed me in UK told me he would have taken me somewhere nice if I would have sent him the picture of my figure.

He would have never taken me anywhere. But it was better this way. I never wanted to go somewhere with him, not after what he did to me. Not after what he did to all the other people.

At the end I did not know anyone at the party. I shook a guy hand, at the party. At the beginning I did not even notice it. Then I noticed I adored his handshake, as I did with the guy I liked in England.

It did not hurt that much. But the fact that I connected it to what happened means that I am still not over it.

The therapist is helping me so much, even though my anxiety is still bad. I still have panic attacks, but I cannot claim after two sessions to feel better. I also have celebrated my birthday in the meantime.

My sister did not say happy birthday to me. I started the day of my eighteenth birthday crying. I cried all the way through school. Well, not exactly. But it hurt so much.

I did a small party. There also was the boy, the nice one, the kind one. He did not talk to anyone but me. I am still not sure I like him. The memories are too alive for me to think about something else.

He was so nice. He gave me a bracelet with a four-leaf clover and the life tree. It is beautiful. He also helped me putting it on. He looked at me a lot during the night. I could feel his gaze on me.

I like him, maybe, but even though I do I am not sure I am ready to be in a relationship. The sixth of October I told my harasser I liked him; he still was not my harasser. We chatted exactly a month before he harassed me.

It hurts so much. There is a guy in school that looks just like him and I have continuous panic attacks every time I see him. I hope I will not see him tomorrow. I might feel worse.

Sometimes I would like nothing of that happened. Sometimes I just would like my pain to stop.