Life has been a roller-coaster so far. Some days I can't believe I ever managed to escape. Others I don't believe I did. The days spent just hanging out with the kids are the best. There have been times I can imagine we're a normal group of friends, spending time together for fun, rather than necessity. But there's always the feeling of trepidation, like the good times can't possibly last. I don't know what to do to change. I can't forget what I've been through, but I can pretend some days that it was only a nightmare. Real fathers wouldn't treat their sons the way my father treated me. So I used to pretend he wasn't my father. He was a man who took me, and abused me, while my real father was still searching for me. My real father, who would someday swoop in and rescue me from the abusive drunk who raised me. But the delusion couldn't last. The monster was my father, and the woman who'd abandoned me was my mother.
On a more positive note, Sam is my brother. He has been surprisingly understanding after everything, and I'm glad he's been able to talk out his issues with Dustin and Hannah. I know part of my problem is being unwilling, or unable, to discuss what has happened, and that is why I'm writing this now. Talking about it with anyone else is not going to happen. And to be honest, I'm having a hard time writing about it, even if I'm the only one who will ever see this.
Well, here goes: Trevor Mason pushed me almost to my breaking point. I say 'almost' because, while I do have days that I wish he'd simply killed me, I also have days that get a little brighter when Sam tells a silly joke, or Hannah smiles...Hannah. She's another reason I'm not broken. When I feel like I'm falling apart, she hugs me, and pulls me back together. At least a little. But it's unfamiliar. Tense and awkward. At least on my part. Hugs, or any other gentle physical contact, are not something I've had much of, except if you count the kids.
The kids. Another reason to feel guilty. After...after everything I can't bring myself together enough to be there for them. I feel as though I've abandoned them. They seem to understand, but I've been their protector...their friend. How could I just let them go and move on?
Everyone keeps telling me to stop blaming myself. That Mason is the one who is at fault for everything that happened to me, and the consequences after. But my reactions are my own. I can't handle it. I can't process it. I almost knocked over Alice and Hannah's house because I can't control myself. Hannah keeps telling me to talk about it. What good can that do? What good can knowing how broken I really am do for anyone?
I don't know. But I guess I should at least consider trying, right? But not now. It's too raw. Physically and emotionally. So far, I can't even process everything that happened. What Mason did...what I did...my body is shaking just thinking about it, and I can't...
Later. Maybe some other time I can write about it, but not now. Now I need to take my meds and forget. Try to forget. It's for the best, anyway...Right?
I decided to try something new. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you think! This post sets the stage for Jason's mindset after the events of Tracker, and before Kindred. Happy reading!