My days of this temporary “normalcy” are nearing over. A few more days..a few more weeks, and everything is as it was.
All I can think about is drinking. All I can think about is the way things were.
Things were awful. It wasn’t fun for me, drinking how much I was. Waking up every day with a hangover, always looking for an opportunity to take another shot, to have another drink.
My head is becoming dangerous company, a houseguest I can’t escape.
Hearing all the things on repeat that have sent me spiraling so many times before. Drink, take some pills…give up.
Give up.
Fueled by anger, by hate…by fear and anxiety and loneliness. I feel isolated in my head. I can’t get out what I need to get out, so I retreat to within.
The same within that’s been trying to kill me for so long now.
This pregnancy comes to an end any time now. And with it, I fear, comes the end of my sobriety. In one way or another…things will change.
I want love, but I reject it. I reject him. Tell him no, tell him to go away…how dare he listen to me when I don’t really mean it. When really, what I mean is yes, please love me, please hold me.
At the end of the day, we all are who we are. And I’m not strong enough for this…to be alone with myself once again.
The voices in my head begging me to give up, to give in, are getting louder and louder.
I’m scared that one day soon, it will be the only voice left that I hear.