I’ve been doing good. Really good. Alcohol is my poison though I’ve done nearly everything else. But drinking was always my fire. It took a long time and a lot of loss and endless pain to finally hit bottom. And I hate myself for everything I’ve done. I don’t go to meetings or support groups. I don’t have tokens or pins or certificates. Not knocking any bit of that, if it’s worked for you then keep going with it! For me it’s a personal struggle so for the most part, as much as I could help it, I keep it personal. But tonight was my first real relapse in 3 years. Just drank half a bottle of moonshine alone. When I was going for my fifth or whatever glass, I stopped. I fucking threw my cup against the wall. God fucking damnit already. Why?! Why do we still romanized our addictions? For me at least, though it’s caused more pain than pleasure, there was still a lot of pleasure. I used to write so much more. I used to read and want to learn so much more. There was such a fire inside. When the fire was still inside. I don’t know. I believe this was just a bump in the road that knocked me off the wagon. I want to believe that. I want to believe I will get past this pain. Again. I know I want to, at least, and I feel that’s a big step to recovering. But if I loose it again I know I won’t be safe. I know I’ve lost so much and still have a lot to loose. I don’t wanna live in fear but maybe for this, I should. I can’t believe I did this after 3 years. I fucking can’t stand myself anymore
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