Last night was interesting. All I could do was curse, maybe cry a little, and drink. I had a bottle of whiskey and it was going down like water. It was delicious and numbing. By the end of the bottle though, I was just getting more and more sad. I didn’t have any more alchohol to help me, so I broke the bottle. Pissed and crying I could think of anything to do. I took a long shard of glass and drug it across my skin. The blood flowed just like the whiskey. I was going down with the bottle this time.
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Shard Of Glass
What just happened?
Everything was going so well. It’s already seven p.m. and I haven’t felt suicidal all day. For me, that is a huge accomplishment. I spent the day with real smiles on my face. I felt like I was alive again. I thought “maybe everything will be all right now.”
I was wrong of course, I’m not all right.
Seven months. Seven fucking months I was cut free.
Not anymore. One cut, just one little slice and a few drops of crimson from that little shard of glass I keep in my room. Suddenly those seven months are gone. Just like that, one moment of weakness.
My promises are broken, the […]