I am still begging for help. Call my sister. Call my therapist. Take me away for 28 days. Do something. I succumb to the help of Brad and my sister, Ellie, a psychologist. They talk on the phone a few times, despite my level of intoxication, I am still shamed and humiliated. But I know that I need to do something other than stay home. My biggest fear at this point is waking up in my own bed tomorrow, with a massive hangover, withdrawals and a guilty conscience. Maybe this is finally my bottom. I am not sure at this point. The only thing I am aware of is that I do not want to wake up in my own bed tomorrow. And I will do anything necessary to keep that from happening. That is a sad feeling. Desperate. Lonely. Pathetic. But that is the one thing I am 100% sure of. I can't face the consequences of my own actions. My drunk actions. Not actually knowing what I am agreeing to, I willingly get into the car and head towards the local emergency room.
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What a diary you are keeping. I was advised that keeping a 'log' would help me, and so I did keep one from the first day (no 'blogs' the, LOL)...and it has helped me IMMENSELY. Because I so easily forget how I felt, and that I vowed over and over, never to drink again (until day after tomorrow, e.g.)
ReplyDeleteHey Stella, hope you make it. Ill be in to say Howdy now and then...as will others, when they 'find' you.
I will not LINK you on my sidebar (so others CAN find you) unless you say OK! OK? You can do that in a comment on fourth dimension...
PEACE!