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.