I'm spent from the grief of the death of my first real, true, sweet, unbelievably good-looking love (age 60), and all the memories that accompany those exquisite times in the late '70's (no comments needed), the details of keeping the five living-yet-dying ones happy and seeing to their needs, calling hospice for my favorite uncle who truly loves me, and having my favorite traveling companion (my sister) back out of the only vacation I've had in two years. So, at a crystalline point this evening, I decided I was going to have wine. Yep, you betcha, I did it. After 5 1/2 weeks of being Af, and not having that much of a problem with it, I'm on my 6th drink. I don't care.
I read about how wonderful you all feel in the morning after being AF, and I've yet to feel that way. Due to my responsiblities, I'm exhausted when I awake, and feel the same throughout the day. Tonight, when I decided to drink, I went through all the mantras: Al doesn't make things better, I'll feel like crap in the morning, I don't need a drink, etc., but I didn't care. I just want to tie one on, turn off the phones, and have a crappy day with a different reason.
I told my DH I'd have to tell you, and felt bad. But, either you care about me, or you don't. Right now I'm so angry, tired, and fed up, that I think I don't care, but I know I do. All of you have helped me tremendously, and I've been proud of my accomplishments, but I'm somewhere else. It wasn't a desire for AL, it was a desire for an altered state. Anyone understand?
Please don't give me the helpful mantras: I know the harm AL does, and won't continue on this path. I'm just ...I don't know what.
With love and affection,
Juja
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