Vacant

I was so convinced I was grateful a few days ago. I’m in FL visiting my mom, and I was so sure the getaway would be a healing one. This morning I woke up in an internal bottled-up rage fit. I’m an afterthought to everyone. Everyone I know is in recovery benefitting from it. For some reason, I feel I’m too sick to save. The benefits of the twelve steps are out of reach to me, and too much time has passed in isolation to make up for any of it now. I want to be taken out swiftly and painlessly. Ideally, a drunk driver hits me and I die on impact.