
Now I can't say that I was expecting the AF ride to be totally without hiccups, but the last day and this morning have been horrendous. I can't read or see or even think something without tears welling up in my eyes, and extreme anger bubbling under the super-calm and collected veneer.
Funny thing is, it's not alcohol or the lack thereof that I'm sad or angry about. It's all the other shit I've been through in the last twenty-odd years that now seems to be coming to the surface. All the times my family (not my kids) turned their backs when I asked for genuine help. (example, me being hospitalised for severe depression and undergoing ECT years ago, and not one of my family stepped up with an offer to care for my kids (then aged 11, 13, 15 and 17). They had the time and financial resources to do so, but the kids ended up having to look after themselves. Even if they'd just fucking called the kids every day to see if they were OK??). (My husband had committed suicide two years before, and I was spiraling right out of control...funny that!)
I'm not going to bore you shitless with my list of 'slights' (either perceived or real) or the hardships endured over the years, but today I've got a very bad dose of the weepies. All the years I condemned myself for being the dirty, rotten alcoholic who was to blame for every damned thing wrong in this world, and suddenly the realisation that I was so damned brave and strong to have survived it at all.
I'm not going to drink today. I know this too will pass. But I'm not going to work because my eyes look like pissholes in the snow and really don't need people asking me if I'm OK every five minutes. :H
I've run out of tissues....gotta go get the dunny-paper now. :nutso:
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