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Nov 28, 2024 21:53:17 GMT -7
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Post by potter on Jul 17, 2011 12:44:35 GMT -7
DO NOT READ BEYOND THIS PAGE. A CURSE HAS BEEN PLACED ON THE FOLLOWING PAGES TO PROTECT THE OWNER'S PRIVACY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------- page 002 17 september, 2022
Yes, this little journal does curse people who snoop past the first page, but no, I didn't put it there. I bought it this way, although I'm not sure why I even need it, it's not as if anyone is going to read this. At least I hope not. All my siblings have gone off to school for the year, and I don't think my father has so much as set foot in my room since I was thirteen. But, well, just in case I suppose. I want to be completely honest about myself in these pages, and I would be mortified should someone else find out. That's why they're not going to.
My problems with eating have gotten worse lately, ever since my mum was killed. Anything with more than fifty or so calories apiece scares me- though I'm keeping my weight down and that's all that really matters. Especially since no one has said anything yet, it's leaving me to believe that they aren't noticing my habits. The cigarettes make it easier, too. After a smoke I don't feel all that hungry, but if I skip I (well, mainly my stomach) pay for it since I wind up eating way more than what I usually do.
If anyone knew they might ask why I do it, I guess it's out of my control now. Funnily enough when this whole mess started up when I was about fifteen it was to have some aspect of control over my life. I was dominated by my schoolwork, but I, at the very least, could dictate what I ate and how much weight I needed to lose. I know it's not good for me, I know that I'm hurting myself, I just can't help it anymore. I confuse myself now more than ever. I'm just happy that my little sister is at school, I don't want to set a poor example for her. She deserves to love who she is, the way she looks, and be able to enjoy food.
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Nov 28, 2024 21:53:17 GMT -7
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Post by potter on Jul 28, 2011 10:16:03 GMT -7
page 003 23 september, 2022
I'm hungry. For once I actually allowed myself to have some fun, and perhaps even made a friend. Saturday night after I got out of work (yes, I know, I have no life, working on Saturday) I went out to a muggle club with Abigail. She's a fellow Auror-in-training and I think that we are becoming friends, which is fairly exciting since I don't really have that many. More like casual acquaintances than anything else. I'm eighteen, still young, I need to have at least a few friends.
Anyways, we went to a muggle club (did I already say that? I think I did,) and I actually had a good time. We shared some drinks, and we danced. For the first time in a long while I actually let myself loose. I even danced with a complete stranger. A very nice muggle man, I think his name was Jacob, although I don't completely remember. He asked for my telephone number, but I've never even used a telephone, much less had one of my own. I feel really guilty because I just made one up. He was really nice and all, but I think the chances of us meeting again are slim.
But yes, I had a great time and I think that Abigail did too. In the meantime I'm thinking a lot about Aries. I wonder what he thinks of me, or if he even does at all. Does he see me the same way I see him? Or does he only tolerate me because we work together? Oh, why can't anything be simple?
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Nov 28, 2024 21:53:17 GMT -7
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Post by potter on Aug 4, 2011 22:12:08 GMT -7
page 004 2 october, 2022
I can't sleep, so I'm writing in here with dim lighting in my room rather than laying in the dark staring up at the ceiling. Supposedly writing your thoughts down when you can't sleep makes it easier to relax. I guess I shall find out whether or not it works. Oh, what to write about... I actually had a normal workday today, I went in at eight in the morning and left at four thirty this afternoon. I would have stayed later, but one of the supervisors literally forced me to go home, saying it wasn't good for me to work so much.
Maybe that's why I'm having trouble falling asleep, I didn't push myself over the edge of mental exhaustion during the day, so now that it's nighttime I'm restless. At any rate, I did get to take some time to wind down. If winding down equates cleaning the house and actually making something nice for supper, that is. Not that I really ate much, I made oven-baked tilapia and a nice spinach salad with a light vinegarette, my dad seemed to appreciate it, although I'm sure he would be more appreciative of something with more substance.
I just can't bring myself to cook red meat, I have trouble enough with fish and poultry. Enough so that I have considered becoming a vegetarian, though ever since I cut out carbohydrates I'm not sure what else I would eat. I'm not a very big fan of soy, it never sits well in my stomach. Even with my strict diet I'm not sure that I could live on just vegetables- although they don't have many calories... I tire of having to restrict myself all the time, though the thought of gaining the slightest bit of weight scares me. I need to be thin. I need to be perfect.
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Post by potter on Aug 14, 2011 20:30:31 GMT -7
page 005 19 october, 2022
I'm not sure why I am even keeping this little journal anymore, I hardly have the time to write in it. When I'm not working I'm either asleep or working off the calories of the day. It seems again as if I am unable to sleep, it's not because of insomnia this time, however. I had a terrible nightmare and I now don't really want to go to sleep. It is still so fresh in my memory, it disturbed me.
In it my mother was still alive, although she wasn't the way she always had been. Those brown eyes of hers were cold, empty even. She sat in the corner living room chair, just staring at me. But I heard whispers the entire time although her mouth was closed. They were her voice, but hollow, no laughter. The whispers were things about how much of a disappointment I was, how I had not been there to stop her death, that I was stupid and unattractive. How she wished I had never been born.
Writing it all out now it doesn't exactly sound scary, though it still disturbs me. I do feel slightly better, getting it off my chest. I think now that I am going to get myself a glass of wine. Perhaps that will calm me enough to the point where I might be able to get back to sleep. Maybe if my father's still awake I'll talk to him a bit, although he's probably gone to bed.
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Post by potter on Aug 18, 2011 21:02:39 GMT -7
page 006 3 november, 2022
Now that I'm thinking on it, in about a month I'm going to be nineteen. It seems odd, to me, getting older. It'll be a lot different this time, though, my mother won't be there to wish me a happy birthday. She won't be there for Christmas or the beginning of the year 2023. She won't be there to see any o her children get married, or see any of her grandchildren. I hate whomever killed her, they were a thief, for taking so much not just from one person, but from an entire family.
Now is the first time I've actually felt any anger about it, though now it is undeniable. I won't go searching for revenge, I cannot be so foolish. Though is it wrong of me to secretly hope to one day catch the person responsible? Perhaps on some other charge, someone who kills in cold blood like that is not bound to have only one dirty deed to their name. This will be my shortest entry yet, I need to... I don't know, perhaps take a walk or something, though I really cannot sit and write any longer.
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Post by potter on Aug 21, 2011 18:51:00 GMT -7
page 007 5 november, 2022
Well, this is perhaps the shortest gap between entries I have yet to have since starting this journal. My boss literally forced me to go home early after so much overtime going on. At first I wasn't sure what to do with any free time during the middle of the day, so I eventually decided that I was going to sit down and write in my journal. Frankly, I have a lot that I want to get off my chest. I don't want to sound like a drama queen with writing it all out, thankfully nobody else is going to read this. I'm pretty sure the curse on it is unliftable from the book.
I hate myself, it isn't just speculative thinking anymore, I really can't stand myself, my life, the things I do, or the things I eat. It seems that all I do is work, and when it gets to be too much it puts me in a foul mood. When I'm in a foul mood I end up with a smoke, drinking far too much, or eating something that I really shouldn't. I'm punishing myself more than ever when it comes to food, I can't get around it anymore. Even just a bite of a sweet or a square of chocolate will make me put in an entire extra hour at the gym.
Not even the casual, hardly-breaking-a-sweat kind of workout. Like the heart-pounding, sweat-pouring kind of workouts where at the end you feel on the verge of passing out. Every time I push myself harder and harder, I need to be thinner, I need to perfect everything. As I lose more and more weight I still cannot see myself as being thin in the mirror. I still see problem areas that aren't as toned as they should be. Nothing about my appearance satisfies me, not even the trivial things like my nose or my fingers.
I need help, but I am afraid to ask for it. Afraid of what people might think. Afraid of how people, especially the ones I love the most, will react. Would they be angry at me for not being able to be normal? I know that I am hurting myself, but this is out of my control now. I need to be thin. I need to be perfect. They aren't desires anymore, they are complete and total needs. I'm trapped in this vicious cycle without an escape route. But I have managed before, and I will do it again. No one can know.
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Post by potter on Sept 29, 2011 14:44:48 GMT -7
page 008 19 january, 2023
I have been neglecting this diary of late, I've just been so busy that I haven't been able to summon the willpower to sit down and write in quite some time. First things first, then? Yes, I suppose. My secret has been found out, and I'm mortified of what is going to happen next. I had been doing such a good job, keeping my anorexia under the radar, only to have everything fall out from under me. The feeling of it was the most dread I have ever felt, a horrible sinking feeling, as if the floor had vanished and I began falling into nothingness.
Shortly after my previous entry I got cursed in the line of duty. That curse caused me the wort physical pain of my life, as if shards of glass were being pumped through my veins. It essentially attacked every system of my body. One of the people I had gone on the mission with told me the curse had made me cry tears of blood. At least that's done and over with now, I have nearly all my strength back, it took me a long while to recover from it. But that was where my problems only began.
The healer who treated me found out about my condition with eating and exercise, and posed me this (I hate to use this word but it seems to be the only one appropriate) ultimatum- either allow him to help me, or he would tell my father. It seems that the people close to me would have to know in order for me to heal, but I'm so mortified of any of them knowing how gravely I have messed up my own life. I don't want any of them to be disappointed in me, or to see my failure.
I am making very slow progress with the help of Seth (the healer), it's so hard, trying to go back to eating and exercising at healthy amounts, or at least what Seth determines as healthy. After most meals I tend to feel ill, I suppose that it is because I have eaten so little for so long that even increasing portion sizes slightly puts stress on my stomach. I have vomited a few times after meals, but I haven't told Seth about it. I don't plan to. I just hope that I won't be expected to gain back too much weight after I worked so hard to lose it all.
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Post by potter on Nov 3, 2011 14:03:37 GMT -7
page 009 3 april, 2023
It has been a long while since I have written anything here, I'm not exactly sure why I ever bother attempting to keep up with a journal when I obviously do not have the time. I have found some now, however, and rather than sit around doing nothing on a Saturday afternoon I decided that I would do a little writing. Perhaps it might be helpful for me, to be able to look back on my own personal views of the events in my life later. Maybe now might be a good time to celebrate the little progress that I have made to being, what one might call, "normal."
I've gotten rid of the bathroom scale, the numbers were more daunting, I've decided that how my muggle clothes fit are a more accurate assessment of my progress. I have gone from a size two to a four, which was daunting at first when I bought the clothes, but I have been reassured that this is healthy, and a step in the right direction. I'm beginning to feel slightly more sure of myself, but this process has been anything but easy. I still struggle every single day, but I'm managing.
Best of all, no one has seemed to notice. I don't want anyone to see me grappling with this. The last thing I need is more people fretting over me, or being viewed as fragile or weak. This is my burden to bear, not the burden of anyone else. Perhaps that was why I was so very reluctant to get help, and rather needed it forced upon me instead of me asking for it. I am getting better, it is just taking much longer than I would have thought.
I tire of writing on this, instead I am going to change the topic onto something more cheery. I have passed my exams and am now a full auror! No longer are there people pushing paperwork off on me, I go on missions much more frequently, and have gotten a substantial pay raise. I was thinking that now with the extra money that I should move out and get my own place (again), though I'm not sure how guilty I would feel leaving my father all alone in the house. Perhaps I ought to wait, at least until the end of the school year so he won't be entirely by himself...
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Nov 28, 2024 21:53:17 GMT -7
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Post by potter on Dec 17, 2011 19:19:54 GMT -7
page010 11 july, 2023
If I'm going to be completely honest, I forgot that I had this journal. I only just came across it in one of my boxes. True to my last entry I moved out again, I got myself a nice flat in a quiet complex, but I only really bothered unpacking non-essential things recently. I suppose that I just got tired of seeing boxes everywhere. If my mum were still around she would have been mortified. Perhaps that's too strong of a word, but she likely would have been very firm that I take the time to settle in properly.
Today marks the one year anniversary of her death. It's hard to think about, that it really has been that long. So much has happened in that span of time- it really only solidifies that even when someone important to you passes that life still goes on. Life doesn't stop for anyone. There will always be promotions, holidays, birthdays, and other things. But if one were to condense all that happens in a year... It adds up to more than what most people think about. My mum has missed a lot, and there's only going to be more things she won't be there for.
I'm just glad that she never had to see me struggle the way I do with accepting myself and the things that I do. The last thing I would have ever wanted was for her to die thinking that she had in some way failed her daughter. If I say so myself she was the best mother that anyone could have ever asked for. Caring, supportive, interested in what was going on in her children's lives. The only time I can ever recall her not being entirely supportive of me was when I first enrolled in Auror training.
But it wasn't because she didn't want me to be independent or have a career- but she was concerned about my safety. She didn't want me to get hurt. I guess that I should also be grateful that she never saw my injured in the line of duty. Most of the time it has been trivial things, a burn on the back of my arm (I still have a slight scar from it), a few broken bones. Though there was that curse in November that rendered me entirely useless for over a month. That probably would have scared her the most.
What would she have done? I likely would have emerged from unconsciousness with her right by my side, probably holding my hand. She'd likely cry tears of happiness when I was given a clean bill of health, insist on doting on me while I recovered... I should stop, it never does any good to dwell on dreams, does it? At least that's what I've heard. It applies to this situation better than any other, I think. No matter how much I hope and dream, my mother is dead and she is never coming back. No magic, no matter how powerful, can fully return the dead.
Maybe it's for good reason, so we don't abuse the power. Blurring the line between living and dead is a shady thing, we're not meant to ever be truly together. If you're alive, you have other living people, but when you're dead... I'm not sure what I believe happens after death. I mean, obviously there's the choice of becoming a ghost, but to me it seems a hollow existence, reducing yourself to a mere wisp of your mortal self- forever stuck to roam the earth no matter what happens.
But what of the people who don't become ghosts? Now that I'm actually writing on it, I'm decided that I'd really rather not think on it. At least not right now. I think I'll go down to Mum's grave, it's as close as I can get to actually visiting with her.
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Post by potter on Jan 2, 2012 17:00:28 GMT -7
page 011 2 august, 2023
I think I'm finally settling into something of a routine, eating is always a struggle, though it's nowhere near what it used to be. I'm getting healthier, I have more energy. As a tribute to my journey I've gotten tattoos that are a bit more visible than the one on my back. On my left wrist I have the word "iniquity" in calligraphy that I penned myself, and then in the same font on my right wrist I have "integrity." I think it suits my situation perfectly, describing what started, and what will eventually end, this process.
I don't know what people will think of them, and it will likely lead to me needing to describe my situation... I'm still not exactly comfortable telling others about my struggles with anorexia. It's a weakness that I need to overcome, not something that I need other people judging me about. Or what might even be worse hovering around me, forcing food on me out of their concern. At least I'm in robes most of the time, keeping my wrists covered. I don't think it will always be so hard for me to talk about it, I just need time.
Time, I suppose, is just what everyone needs. We're always wanting more of it. Someone should find a way to use time as currency, I suppose that there is the possibility of immortality through things like alchemy- perhaps I didn't think that through thoroughly. Regardless, I'm on the right track, I recognize that now.
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Post by potter on Feb 24, 2012 22:32:28 GMT -7
page 012 17 november, 2023
Do you ever have the feeling that something bad is going to happen? No, that was ridiculous of me to write, this is an inanimate object, I can't ask it questions and expect an answer. I don't really know what it is, I just have this bad feeling in my gut that something not good is about to unfold. Really, not so good things have been unfolding in the background lately. Disappearances, sudden deaths, a sudden spike in violent crime. I don't like it, this is the way previous wars have started.
Just little things, until bit by bit darkness takes over. My hand is literally tembling as I write this, and I cannot help but feel paranoid. I feel so in the dark about everything- nobody knows what's going on. Lately I have been debating more and more about joining the Order of the Phoenix. I hate not knowing, I hate not being able to help. There are people dying and vanishing, families being ripped apart, I can't just sit back while all this happens and not do anything about it. All I know is that I don't like this feeling, and I would do anything for it to go away.
Father likely wouldn't be pleased if I completely joined up with the Order, he thinks it to be too dangerous, and in a way I recognize that it is. Though with my profession being what it is, I believe that I might be able to at least offer something to the cause. I just don't know what to do, the uncertainty is putting a great deal of stress on me. I haven't told anyone, but I'm struggling with eating again. It's not as bad as it was, but I'm cutting back on portions.
Food doesn't seem to sit well in my stomach lately, I can't sit still. But I can't afford to lose any weight, I confided in Erik about my struggles with anorexia, he's the most likely of anyone to notice if I start messing up. But I almost want to... I don't even know what to do with myself, I've never had feelings like these. Either I've allowed myself to eat, or I haven't, not this somewhere in between thing. I've never had problems making up my mind before, at least not when it comes to eating and exercise.
I suppose I'm just confused, tired, or paranoid. Or rather a combination of the three. I haven't slept properly in a week or so, I just can't seem to turn my brain off. I'll either lie awake in bed for hours, or I'll wake up several times during the night with racing thoughts. Maybe I will try and go to sleep, it's quite late, after all. Hopefully these feelings I'm experiencing will sort themselves out by the time morning comes.
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Post by potter on Mar 6, 2012 21:52:03 GMT -7
page 013 13 december, 2023
It turns out there is some stock in my gut feelings after all, or at least the last time I wrote. It's just... horrible. Shortly after my previous entry the auror office was attacked by whom the ministry had labeled "Dark wizards or witches unknown," though I firmly believe them to be Death Eaters. We lost five of our rank, Cooper, Daniels, and three interns. From how I understand it, they intercepted the guests from the Romanian Department of Magical Law that were supposed to be visiting, and attacked us from within. I and two others were out on a mission before the attack, I just wish that we might have gotten back only minutes sooner...
Perhaps then we might have been able to spare the lives of those who had been attacked by those where they were supposed to be safe. The scene was horrifying, never have I seen such an exhibition of muggle methods- they had killed them all with knives. There was so much blood everywhere... The interns had their stomachs sliced open, entrails hanging from gaping wounds, they had slit Daniels' throat, and Cooper... Hers might have been the most unsettling- stabbed straight through the lungs so she couldn't breathe. It was terrible, considering Cooper was pregnant. We were too late to save the baby.
God the blood, I think that's what haunts me most. No, it was their eyes. Their open, glazed over eyes that saw nothing, there aren't words accurate enough to describe what they look like, it's the least natural thing that I can think of. I've been having nightmares about coming across the scene, not the duel I and the other two aurors had with the intruders, but the ghastly crime scene, those permanently staring eyes incapable of taking in what was going around them, the corpses still oozing blood from their fatal wounds...
I've tried the potions, but those nightmares seem to find a way to sneak around them. I'm beginning to find that if I completely exhaust myself and drink enough wine they aren't as bad. Nothing makes them go away, though. Hopefully through the Order (I joined officially the day before my birthday) their organization will be brought justice after such a sickening act. Maybe that might bring me peace, I can only hope it will do the same for the families of the deceased.
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Post by potter on Mar 24, 2012 10:25:21 GMT -7
page 014 7 january, 2024
Eating is starting to become difficult again. I'm finding myself facing more and more bouts of insomnia, it seems I'm almost afraid to go to sleep. I hate seeing that scene each time I close my eyes, I've been brewing stronger and stronger potions but they don't seem to be helping. At most they'll dull the images rather than make them entirely go away. I just want them to stop, I don't want to be afraid of my dreams anymore. I absolutely hate it, I hate that it even happened at all.
I fear current events are taking a turn for the worse, especially given the just before Christmas there was a murder on the Hogwarts grounds. Ascella Malfoy was murdered by a "Dark witch or wizard unknown" (again I firmly suspect Death Eaters), without warning, without cause. Because of it myself and several other Aurors have been stationed at the Hogwarts grounds, though I do not believe there is a lingering threat around the school. The crime seemed too specific, like it were a mission, rather than the near random attack on the ministry. Besides, the Death Eaters would be stupid to attempt to get any closer to the school than the gardens where the murder took place- it's too well protected.
I fear for not only my own safety, but those of the ones I love. I dread having to face ministry personnel bearing news that someone important to me has been killed. I might not be able to live with it, I can barely live with myself as it is. I haven't told anyone, but I've started cutting back on portions again. Not by much, but I find that I can't stomach much food anymore, I can't stand the sight of myself in the mirror. I've lost a tiny amount of weight, it's not noticeable unless I'm wearing my muggle clothes, which fit a bit more loosely than they used to.
Maybe it's because I've been smoking and drinking more. I'm too nervous, and when I'm unsettled I tend to turn to my wine and my cigarettes. I know that it isn't a healthy habit, but I would rather do that than pace about my apartment or my office unable to think clearly. I think that I might need help again, but I'm not going to trouble anyone right now. I just need to get back on the right track is all. I can do this on my own. I think.
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Post by potter on Apr 14, 2012 9:45:58 GMT -7
page 015 23 february, 2024
I've been having trouble lately with my anxiety level, I feel paranoid all the time. Not that I'm going to be attacked, no, but that something like the massacre at the ministry or the murder at Hogwarts is going to happen around me. I just have this terrible, ominous feeling that nowhere and no one is safe. It makes it hard to sleep at night, near impossible to focus on paperwork at the office, and it makes me turn to my addictions. I'm drinking and smoking more now than I ever used to, I know it's bad, but they're the only things that make me feel relaxed.
Lately I can't even fall asleep if I haven't met my "quota" of cigarettes. At least I haven't resorted to drinking on a daily basis, though it's at least three times a week, if not four. Some days it'll just be a slight buzz, others I'll drink myself silly to the point where everything feels like it's spinning and I couldn't walk a straight line if I tried. I've experimented with potions and such, calming draughts primarily, but I find they're not particularly effective. Perhaps it's my uniquue brain chemistry, or maybe because my anxiety is rooted much deeper than day-to-day worries.
I'm having to consciously, fervently, work against my anorexia. Food has lost all appeal whatsoever, I worry constantly about gaining too much weight. I find myself discouraged because of it, for so long I was making progress, though now I feel all I'm doing is regress. I wouldn't dare tell anyone, however. Erik has enough to worry about without thinking on my problems, my family is still thankfully in the dark (I'm never going to tell them, I've decided), and Seth... Well I haven't seen him in months. And I'm definitely not going to go out of my way to find him.
It's not that I don't want help, it's... Well, I don't really know what "it" is, I can't even tell that to myself, let alone articulate it into something others might be able to understand. I think I'll go out and have myself a smoke, I'm starting to feel uneasy again, I need to relax...
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Post by potter on May 12, 2012 17:16:35 GMT -7
page 016 17 april, 2024
I think I might be pregnant. And that thought (atop of everything else I wrote in the previous entry) scares me more than anything else. But I haven't had a period in two months, and that simply doesn't happen to me unless I am dangerously underweight. I'm afraid, it's not a good time, the world is too scary of a place, I would feel guilty bringing a child into that. I'm working myself into a frenzy about it, though at this point I don't even know for sure whether or not I am expecting. I've set myself an appointment with a healer, though the soonest they could get me in is a week from now.
In the meantime I've stopped smoking cold turkey, and that, if anything, has made my anxiety worse.I can hardly sit still, I can't relax, and I can't even drink as heavily as I have been. I don't even know for sure, though if I were to smoke or binge on drinking... I don't know what I'd do with the guilt. Hell, I don't even know how I'll face my father if this is the case. He hasn't ever expressed disliking Erik, though he doesn't seem to be entirely thrilled with him either.
Will I disappoint him for getting pregnant outside of wedlock? And I fear more than ever for my safety, this dark force doesn't take mercy on anyone, not even pregnant women. Violet's savage death is still too fresh in my mind, a vicious double-murder that claimed the life of an unborn infant. What if the same fate should happen to me? Even with the increase of security measures within the ministry I cannot help but feel paranoid whilst at work. If they got in once, there is no reason they can't again.
I'm so afraid, though I haven't the faintest idea of where to turn. I am, at this moment, almost reduced to tears. Even with my anxiety I haven't been brought to crying. Not until now. I just don't know what to do, I hate not knowing, I hate being afraid. I feel so helpless, like there isn't anything that I can do.
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