Im feeling it intensely. This is whats bothering me. My brother came home for the weekend, and I found a bunch of stuff that had been missing. But its not like stuff thats been missing. Things that were broken, suddenly put back together unblemished, things that I threw away in the trash miles apart, in drawers or out in the open. This has always happened to me, actually, in secret. But its causing me to grapple with my sanity. There was a letter I had written that I left at the old apartment and I swore also threw in the garbage where I made a vow to be my true self and stop the meds. And I have been taking the pills, and its like this paper was sent to me to remind me it scared me…I dont think anyone put it there on purpose, but it was just there—out in the open, in the empty bedroom after my brother left. And then, I found the book the house of leaves which is a horror book about a house with spooky stuff like that…and I started reading it, it kind of comforted me actually.
Thats all I have to say for now.