Nothing is keeping me sober today. I'm trying to get to an in-patient treatment run by the state. I keep hearing Ben say "you're hopeless" and I'm pretty sure he's right. But here's the thing: by some strange twist of fate I am still alive and as long as I am I will not give up. I made it 6 days without drinking and I thought this was the time. I really do wish I had the gumption to kill myself but my dear Uncle Ronald won't let me. And besides who would take care of Attaboy?
Roberta wants me out and Brent is not speaking to me. My very good friend, Claudia, has given all she can and I feel like my only friend left is Jackie who was kind enough to visit with me yesterday. Jackie is atheist or maybe just agnostic which is actually a very worse state; one I've been living in for years. At least when you're atheist you know what you believe.
My lips are chapped; I'm totally dehydrated and the diarrehea is coming on - oh, the joys of alcoholism. The ringing in my ears is driving me crazy. I'm pretty sure I won't be around much longer and at this point it would be a blessing. Grace I think they call it. And here I sit for all the world to see, just hoping my own sordid tale will get through to someone who still has time to keep it from happening to them.