You said to email if it didn't go away, Doc, so just getting in touch. As I'm typing this, I can feel it hot and blooming in my head; like an explosion going off in slow motion.
*God, it's just splitting my skull tonight!*
Should probably stop by the pharmacist like you said, but I just couldn't drive at all; my vision gets all blurry and I'm finding it hard to focus with these headaches.
The pills helped in the beginning but now I feel like they're just making it worse. Like it's angry that I'm trying to get rid of it.
Have to say, I'm still hearing that weird thing - you know, the whisper. Side effect or not it's just scaring me, Doc.
I feel like it's evolving or something, like it's suggesting stuff to me and when I try to ignore it the pain increases.
Checked out that letter I sent you? Guy says his sister had the same thing before she went crazy.
Yeah, okay, I know I shouldn't just believe everything I read, but the way she described the pain... it's exactly the same. She said that the whispering made her do it.
I keep thinking about how they picked up her husband's body all over the garden.
The thing is the headaches only got worse when she resisted the suggestions. She felt like it was... *punishing* her.
Like it was driving and she was going along for the ride whether she wanted to or not.
Back at work next week. The boss wasn't happy with the blackouts, said I was scaring my colleagues. I know it was a new printer and all but I sure as hell don't remember doing what I did.
My hand's in a cast, for God's sake, forget the printer. And don't get me started on that damn door.
Door wasn't working properly, anyway; glad they got it replaced after what I supposedly did!
See, I know it all looks bad but I really don't remember anything after the blackouts.
Just the pain rising and rising and then, boom, nothing! And it's embarrassing being picked up by the cops, you know, just standing there in the middle of the main street.
I didn't mean to frighten those kids.
You have to believe me, Doc. I need your help more than ever. I can feel it swelling now, squeezing my brain like a vice, dictating everything I'm doing, everywhere I'm going.
Hell, I feel like it's typing this for me in some way, just *taunting* me.
Soon, it'll just take over, as far as I'm concerned. Not feeling myself.
Doc, I have to come see you. But just for tonight, do me a favour and lock up. I tell everyone the same thing, but you're always on my mind.
*(By the way, do you know how to get rid of that squiggly red line under words? It's highlighting the start of every paragraph and it's going to drive me crazy!)*