I haven't written in the longest time. Things got pretty bad. About a month ago, Bf and I broke up after I drank at work again, and failed to come home that night.
I don’t even know where I went. I woke up in my car, in the parking lot of some strip mall that I have never seen before in my life. This occurred two days before my six month clean and sober anniversary.
I gotta stop stripping.
Girl Agent is home in three weeks, and then I can finally give her back the agency phone and get the rest I need. I can't believe how desperately I am anticipating this stay in hospital. What I once struggled to convince myself to even DO has now become the only reason I bother to stay alive. That last little glimmer of possibility, that if I can just hang on until I can check into the hospital and get some real help, is a lifeline that I am clinging to with the last of my hope. Without it on the horizon, I would simply give up, right now.
Everything is just so fucking insurmountable. The most basic functions of every day life are exhausting, and overwhelming - showering, walking the dogs, answering the phone. I just haven't the energy or the motivation to take on any of it.
Which unfortunately includes writing my blog.
I'll try again tomorrow.