I tried to go slower tonight.
Start later, make it weaker…drink it more slowly.
And I succeeded.
Until about…an hour into the night.
And now, here we are. And I’ve had more than I should have.
Still having more than I should.
I know I should stop.
I want to stop.
I know I’ll regret this. Every sip, every intentional (unintentional) drink is one that I’ll wish I didn’t take.
Sure, I have “no responsibilities” now….but I surely do when I wake up a few hours from now.
And don’t they descent my best? My most present, my least slow moving and engaged?
But…tonight is still tonight. And tonight can still be pretty painful.
I’ll try to show him love…I’ll try to offer him the best of myself. The version of myself that I desperately hide away, until alcohol makes it drastically more acceptable.
I have gone beyond my threshold for tonight. And every sip I take is one that leads directly to regret.
I want to stop. I so, so desperately want to stop.
But I can’t.
Why can’t I?
Why do I keep drinking when I hate it, when I know that I’ll regret it?
I want to stop. If I don’t…it will lead to very bad things. As it literally always does.
I’ve had enough. I reached my threshold. I don’t have to keep going.
And now I’m thinking about self harm. And I’m thinking about dying.
All I want to do is give up…give in. It’s so hard. And it feel so fucking lonely.
I don’t have to keep going.
I don’t have to do this.
I can stop.
Even if I don’t want to.
Maybe, I have to anyway.