I’m drunk today.  And I’m seldom sober
Traditional Irish Song

It took eight days to detox.  Eight days of fighting.

It took one day to re-tox.

Unrelated to the retox, I had a three-day migraine that made me too sick to move and too double-visioned to stand.  This stopped me drinking for two and a half days.

I feel so guilty.  All that effort, for what?  People invested in me, I invested in myself.  And at the end of the day, I’m


Today a friend of mine said she wouldn’t speak to me for a week if I bought a bottle of wine.  After I asked her to persuade me to stay sober  .And I bought it anyway.  Anyway.

My sister’s coming on Saturday, it’s really kind, she wants me not to be alone. I haven’t seen her in a bit.

Same old images in my head (body in river.  struggle.  futile.)  Over and over and over, even whe I feel OK.  I stayed at the nurses’ station Tuesday night because I felt awful.  Unlike a lot of people I know, I always sleep better in unfamiliar places.  None of my own stuff kicking about.  At the moment my room= abandoned essay plans, felt-tip stains, a chair atop a chair with pyjamas between.  Etc.  I had no idea I used so many felt tips until a recent survey of everything fabric in my room.

Waking in the NS after my first drink in a week, I was shaking.  Violently.  But however many times I tell myself there is no hiding from this… I keep hiding.

I’m still hiding.


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