I broke NaBloPoMo, because of my
stupid fucking illness. I had a huge breakdown last night and didn’t have the heart to write about it at the time, I was too “all over the place.” Things got real bad between my partner and I, again, and everything turned to shit very rapidly, so fast that I didn’t have time to catch up with it. I ended up saying and doing stupid things, things which I now think that I regret. And I try not to regret things, but regret is the only word which springs to mind in relation to my actions last night. I’ve decided that I need to quit drinking once and for all, so I’m going cold turkey which terrifies me but is necessary for my survival. Suicidal thoughts come in waves, their intensity rising and falling like the tide. I’m exhausted. I am seeing the Community Psychiatric Nurse tomorrow and I’m going to tell her that I really need help: like, really need help. Everything scares me and makes me anxious for the future which is strange because I can’t see any future past today.
I know I need to concentrate on here and now. At the moment, I am a very sick young woman. I need help. That’s the first step to Recovery, isn’t it? Admitting that I need help? Maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong, I skipped the first step and dived straight in at the deep end knowing full well that I can’t swim. I’ve been going about Recovery all wrong. Another failure to add to my list. It’s like relapse after relapse at the moment. I don’t know how long I can live like this for. I know that I need to make some major changes in my life, starting with quitting booze. It all just seems to be too much to bear at the moment. I need all the support that I can get, I’m willing to let anyone help me so long as that’s exactly what they do: help. I feel so overwhelmed. I am exhausted. Heartbreak, breakdown, broken.