I’m really, really sorry about my last post. I just felt like I needed to get that all out of my system, you know? There’s just been so much to do and read and think about, I haven’t really been able just to talk to anyone and it sort of .. got intense.

I think I may be losing my mind. Ha ha. I know, “More than usual?” right? Seriously… I feel so isolated and so alone, and now I feel bad even writing that down because I know it’s nothing, nothing compared to what Dean must be going through. At the risk of sounding extremely girly, I miss him so much.. it makes me sick to think of how he’s suffering. God, Bobby… it’s this kind of thing that’s been running through my mind; I know we’ll get Dean out of Hell, but… will he be all right? I mean, will he be Dean? I know after I went Dark-side, Dean told me later that the thing that scared him most was… would I still be Sammy? And I know there were times when I wasn’t myself; I knew what was going on, I could feel and hear and see, but.. I didn’t have a real grip on it. It was me but I couldn’t get my head around the fact that the horrible stuff I was doing just wasn’t normal, you know? All the bitterness and the coldness of it, the things I did.. it just seemed, you know.. right.

But Dean coming back, filled up with the kind of black void where his conscience used to be… still Dean, but not caring about anything and leaning way toward nasty.. it’s a scary thought. Are we going to be okay, the two if us? Can I still joke around with him? Do I have to worry that Hell has turned him so sour that I should afraid of my own brother? That Dean might want to .. you know.. hurt me? I mean, it’s my fault he’s there in the first place. The whole selling-your-soul thing probably sounded like a really good and noble gesture for a while. I mean, it is, of course… I would have died. End of story. But to think that he’s been down in Hell all this time, with plenty of time to think about it.. is he gonna come back thinking “Hey, that stupid little bitch ain’t worth this crap!”

I just want to get this over with and bring Dean home, Bobby.

Later.

-S.W.

I just have this awful feeling inside, this whole dark pressing sensation, it feels like it’s pushing me down into a pit that I can’t crawl out of. I just want to give up and lie down and cry until I can’t feel anything anymore. Honest to god, Bobby, I’m so tired of feeling like this all the time, I… sometimes I wish Dean hadn’t cared so much and thought I was worth dying for. I mean, look at me;  I’m a mess. Why the big sacrifice for me? I’m so screwed up, my whole life is just one long series of horrible events. I’m not normal, if there is such a thing. I’m a 25 year-old college drop-out orphaned unemployed brain-glitched loser with a police record and a demon on my ass, and the only person who gave a damn died to save me. Why? I’m no savior. I’m nothing special. I’m pretty much just plain nothing.

Then I get mad at myself for being so helpless, and so self-pitying… Bobby, I know that people go through loss and tragedy and guilt every day but I can’t help wonder why does it always happen to us? I mean, always. Is there a big target on the back of every Winchester ever born? I know being Bobby Singer is no walk in the park either… did we jinx you somehow? Curse you by getting close to you? Man, I am so sorry you ever got mixed up with my family… but I’m really glad you did too. There’s no way Dean and I could have come this far without you. I just hate that you feel so responsible for us that you don’t have the time to get your own life straight. You’ve got your own worries, I know. I mean, I’ve known you all ever since I can remember but damn… I never knew about your wife. I never knew about your life. I was always so wrapped up in myself that I couldn’t see the pain others were going through.

And it’s true with Dean too. He was always there for me. Always. Never turned his back on me, never was too busy to spend time with me… and I think I took it for granted. He gave up his whole life for me. I was his #1 priority since I was born and look where it got him. Some great brother I turned out to be. He gives up his life for me and all I can do is wallow in a big pool of self-pity and self-loathing because I’m not strong like Dean. But I can’t be like him… Bobby, Dean is so strong, I know he’s still being strong even now, wondering what I’m doing wasting time and not hauling him out of Hell. He’s probably looking at his watch right now, “Damn it, Sammy.. get a move on!”

So, I’m gonna take a deep breath and try to make some sort of sense out of the mountain of research I’ve gathered up and I’ll get together with you later and we’ll hash it out. I don’t know why I’m writing that because you won’t be reading this anyway. And I resisted putting a little smiley-face there at the end of the sentence even though it would drive Dean crazy and he’d punch me in the arm and call me Samantha, and in a way I’m almost tempted to do it anyway because maybe it would make him mad enough to storm out of Hell himself and kick my ass for being such a wimp. And I deserve it.

Okay, Bobby.. thanks for listening again… I swear I’m through with the pity party and I’m ready to man up and be the brother I need to be.

Later-

S.W.