Sannah, I do believe that part of the reason why I am so negative about healing is because I want to beleive there really isn't anything wrong with me, I think i'm just a perfectionist at heart, and if something is wrong, then all is wrong. I look at my brother, who has been through some of these experiences with us, and he has broken out of fear, on his own, he and I are completely opposite, meaning, he is a very logical minded human, was always good at school, and he wasnt as attached to my mother like I was. Or he was, but he just didn't show it like I did. He broke out of it somehow, because we both are hermits. For me to express that I think or know there is a problem is me thinking it's a sign of weakness. That something is wrong with me, and I don't want to face that. I make up tons of excuses why I shouldn't go to my general doctor to ask for a referral to a psychiatrist. I usually justify it in my head.

I tried once before, like last year, I broke down with the doctor and said that I needed to talk to somebody, I didn't know who to ask for or anything, I just broke down, and said I needed to talk to somebody. He said he would set up an appointment with someone, so I waited for a call, I did this behind my mother's back, because I do thing it's embarrassing, in my head it just means there's something mentally wrong with me, and I should be ashamed of that, because I'm broken. Anyways, a call never came, so it discouraged me, when I felt the lowest, and tried reaching out for help that never came. So i didn't bother again.

My mother recently went to the doctors and just started talking about me, she told him I was always down, thats how she described it, and she said that I wanted to talk to somebody, so he said for her to bring me up there on Tuesday. But still, I am very afraid to take that first step, what if things don't come through, again, I'll be left feeling like that help didn't come, so why bother. Then I try to convince myself that I will be fine, and there's nothing wrong with me, but I know..there is.

my mother wasnt just my mother she was my best friend. Even to this day I hate doing things on my own, and it's embarrassing, and it's because I've always had my mom by my side to do it, and now I feel like i'm on my own, and I can't break out of cycles of fear, even to go to the store on my own because I know I will suffer with alot of Anxiety. It's a vicious cycle, as I like to say or try to describe to people how I feel. I just have alot on my mind right now, it probably doesn't make any sense what I just said lol.

Alright though, I will share another story, this story I remember very vividly, I was 13 years old, this happened a couple days before christmas, December 23rd, 2002 to be exact..

It was 6:45ish am, My father had just left for work, my mother was sleeping with 2 year old baby sister in her room, I was sleeping in my room, my brother was awake on the computer. He heard something in our backyard, it sounded like stuff being thrown from a nearby park, so he went into my mother's room and whispered to her that people are throwing things from the park into our backyard. She kinda woke up but was like okay, I guess at that moment is wasnt that important, she probably figured they were just kids messing around. Not more than 5 minutes later my brother ran into my mother's room and said "Mom! they're in our backyard!" My mom jolted up. I was awake by this time by I was kinda in my room with the door open just listening to them talk..I don't think I really KNEW yet what exactly was going on. My mom went down the stairs and she grabbed the phone with her hand from inbetween the stair railings. My brother and I were both now standing on the stairs, he was down the stairs more than I, I was kind of at the top just looking over, I remember seeing shadows out of the kitchen window. Our kitchen was connected to the backyard, with a sliding door, which might I add, had a bar behind it in the crease so you can't just open it, we had it locked and everything, plus more.

Anyways, my mom was on the phone with the 911 operator, and my mom is furious, because in her state of mind, its happening all over again..and this makes it even worse..her anxiety mode is very uncontrollable. She confirmed to the 911 operators that there was two men in our backyards, and they were trying to break out sliding door, we could hear cracking of the glass, my mom was going absolutely beserk, and the 911 operator was asking my mother where we lived and our address, and then she asked how do you get there, thinking on it now I know it was used as a way to try to calm my mother down. My brother heard that, because my mother must have repeated it, but he ended up breaking and yelling "THEY KNOW HOW TO GET HERE STOP ASKING STUPID BS QUESTIONS AND GET HERE NOW, THEY ARE BREAKING IN!" my brother was now uncontrollable, and me, all I can remember is that I was scared, but I was kind of in a state of shock where I was most of the time.

My mother told my brother to take me and my little sister and go into her room and no matter what we heard, we would not come downstairs. He fought it but eventually listened and we went into my mothers room, and barracaded the bedroom door with her big dresser, we then barracaded the bathroom door, because it was connected to the master bedroom. We put everything we could find against those doors, and then my brother said okay, Steph, and passed me a coat hanger, I was watching him, and he was making it into a weapon, so I began to do the same, I remember even asking him if we should hide in the closet, and he said no. Then he opened the window to the front of the house, and it was a window directly over the garage roof, so you could easily jump down onto the roof..He told me if we heard footsteps at all, that we were going to jump onto the roof with christina, my little sister to be safe. So in my head I thought the worst and I was ready, for anything bad to happen, we both knew we had to protect Christina. My brother knew he had to protect us, no matter what.

within 5 minutes later, we seen the police swarm around our house from the window in my mothers room, but we waited until we heard my mother say something to us to come downstairs, and then we had to clear the way.

when we went to look at our backyard door, it was completely shattered..meaning that the police had gotten to my house jsut in time, or something terrible would have happened. They left alot of possessions behind, including a sock with an electric socket in it, very long and sharp chandelier crystal things, I don't know the proper name for it, they were like daggers. very dangerous. They also left other things I don't quite understand, like shaving cream and stuff like that..I can't remember anything else..I also think they waited for my dad to leave..so they knew what house to go to, and I think that possibly they could have known us. We don't know.

It was very scary, but even talking about it I have no feeling. It's like a wow, sometimes I do get that feeling like man I'm gonna explode about this, but then I hold back and it goes away completely. It's like my mind just shuts off to emotion. I don't understand.