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A grumpy Sunday morning

It’s Sunday morning. Things should be fine, nothing is “wrong” nothing bad happened, but I woke up in a bad mood. I don’t want to be around people, and to be honest, I wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t want to be around me either.

I don’t feel good about myself physically, I’m craving alcohol harder than usual, and I’m just over it. I was over this day before it even started.

I hate this feeling. And I hate that I woke up feeling this shitty. I spent all night staring at a pile of gifts for my birth son in my room that I have to wrap and send him for his birthday coming up. Then I started second guessing everything.

Did I get him too much? Will his parents be angry with me? Will he even like any of this stuff? Shit, will he even ever get this? Or will his parents just not even give it to him?

As grateful and genuinely happy as I am to be pregnant, right now I just wish I wasn’t. I need to get through this time of year the way I need to do it. And that is NOT by being sober.

I hate this. I just fucking hate this. All I want to do is drink, and I can’t. I want to take pills, and I can’t. I just want this feeling to go away, to somehow change it with any substance in the world.

But I can’t. I can’t do any of it.

I didn’t have therapy this week because it was spring break, and as we ALL fucking know by now, that pretty much means on Tuesday when I go back, it’s going to be an absolute shit show. Whenever there’s a break of any kind, even if it’s only a week, I somehow manage to completely fuck it up the next time I go. Thank you, anxiety.

I don’t know how to get through this with just…nothing. With just myself, and that’s it.

I don’t want to waste today. I don’t want to spend a whole day being in a bad mood for no reason.

This is hard. Today is hard. And these days will only get harder. I have no one to rely on but myself right now. I can’t change how I feel by drinking, or by doing anything else.

For the first time in way too long, I’ll have to face his birthday this year…sober. And on my own.

And it really just fucking sucks. That’s all there is to it. I feel alone and crappy and just…I don’t know.

All I know is that I want things to feel okay. I want to get through this year….safely. And not quite so on my own.

I’m guess I’m just sad. I miss him, and it hurts, and I don’t like hurting. I’d rather be angry. There’s so much to be angry about, and it’s so much easier to feel anger and express it as anger than anything else.

I want to be alone, but I don’t want to do this alone. I guess I don’t know what the fuck I want.

Maybe I just want someone to get through this with me. Or to help me through it, or to be there with me, or even just to fucking acknowledge that this sucks and it that it’s fucking brutal.

For the 8th year now, my son will celebrate a birthday without his mom. It’s messed up.

Shit. Sometimes I just really hate adoption.

I’ll try to make the most of today. I really will. I’ll make it a better day, and I’ll get out of my random, useless bad mood.

Maybe I just need to make myself a cave of blankets and hide inside of it for a little while.

(((I miss you always, but today I miss you extra)))

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