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Posted by Annabelle Smith on May 19, 2011, at 5:42:24

In reply to Angry, posted by Annabelle Smith on May 18, 2011, at 14:29:33

I must never go to psychobabble on my family's desktop computer again. I was home alone on the desktop this afternoon, and the computer froze, as it often does. I had been on psychobabble, and the screen disappeared. When I finally got the internet back up, my tabs were gone, so I assumed that all was fine. But later that night, my mom got onto the computer. I was lucky enough to have been passing through the room when she asked "what is psychobabble?" I felt absolute panic. I tried to act calm and quickly went to the computer and exited out of the screen.

She didn't see anything, but now I have this looming fear that she will go back and research. I am so terrified that she will find all of my secrets. So, posting even this is something of a risk to me, as I fear that it may be found. Sometimes I wonder if she has seen other things in my room-- I wonder how much she knows. I sent many emails to the Samaritans suicide email line over Christmas holidays and feel like she might have seen the ones I had printed off in my room. I wonder if she has seen my journals. I even wonder if she would go through my stuff or not. I don't know. Part of me feels terrible that I would even assume that she would do this; if I am wrong, what an awful thing to accuse someone of doing. Yet, I know she has gone through my brother's stuff-- she fears that he has been dating a woman more than 20 years older than him, and she fears his involvement with hate groups. I fear the latter too and have considered going through my brother's room, drawers, and papers when I am alone at home one day. I also want to know. I fear to know, but I want to know.

I feel afraid sometimes. I couldn't sleep much last night-- it was a restless feeling that gnawed at me inside. Like my mind was spinning out of control in a riddle that didn't make sense-- despair over my therapist, my forced silence, my prison. I could only sleep 4 hours. But I went to the kitchen at 3am and had a strange feeling. It was a feeling of realizing that I am alive. Sometimes this feeling comes-- knowing that I am alive and how strange it is to be alive, to exist. And then I feel terrified-- something about this existence is absolutely terrifying. There is a constant incomprehensibility, a constant threat, a constant terror of death. I feel pushed up against something that I do not know or understand.

I feel so exhausted. I hope my mom didn't find this. I worry that she has and will...and then what will happen, only God knows.


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Psycho-Babble Psychology | Framed

poster:Annabelle Smith thread:985601
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20110511/msgs/985691.html