Alice hasn't shown her face in a while, but a new problem arises. You know how I'm anxiety-disorder-level nictophobic? And how the Slender Situation has made it worse?
Yeah, my parents noticed. They want me to see a therapist. Actually "want" implies I have some choice in the matter. They're forcing me.
Shit shit shit.
Problems With This:
1. I'll be out of the house more, thus separating me from Daniel more, thus putting one or both of us at risk.
2. The last thing I need is another person involved in my insanity, trying to leech the truth out of me then thinking I'm insane when I break down and tell them I'm being stalked by a tall man in a suit who technically shouldn't exist.
3. I don't like therapy. Therapy sucks. It did help when I had it back in high school, I'm a lot better than I used to be, but it still sucked. And I don't even know if the woman I was seeing before I left is even in practice anymore. Which means they might have to send me to Doctor Patronizing Bitch. No. Never again.
So yeah, this basically sucks.
Still no sign of Slender.