Here I am again… drinking Night Nighy tea after chugging bottled water after drinking too much red wine… hoping I won’t get hung over.  The scary part is I don’t get hung over any more.  I can drink so much and feel fine the next day.  At least fine enough.  It is a problem, no doubt about it.  A big one.  It is a crutch.

I made an elaborate meal this evening… it turned out wonderful, but I’m lucky I didn’t cut my finger open chopping vegetables while I was drunk… or buzzed.  Either way I wasn’t in a condition to be chopping vegetables.  I ate dinner by myself.  I was supposed to eat out on a date last night but was stood up.  I feel rejected, unwanted, unrespected, weak, vulnerable, gulliable, ashamed.  Sad.  But I know I’l get through this fine.  I’ll wake up tomorrow better.  I will.  I just needed to process this.  I needed to get the bad feelings out.

I haven’t thought about cutting or killing myself in sometime.  I’m doing much better .  I was able to chop vegetables with a knife and not look foreward to how it would pierce my skin later and let the pain out.

I’m crying now, though.  I’m drinking my tea and looking at the silly mug I inheritated from my Grandma this year–it shows a kitten and a puppy in a basket on a shelf of jars of preserves.  It is just so silly, but so comforting.  I love her and I miss her.  My depression kept me from getting very close to her… and now that I’m feeling better, I miss her so much.

I’m hurting but I’ll feel better after some sleep.  My job needs me to be strong.  No room for emotion.  I’ll be strong again… for them… my team.