#445

And I made a promise to someone who was very dear to me at one time to never pick up a knife again. And I am struggling to keep that promise. It's all hit me worse than ever. I have decided that because the meds these doctors give me fail to work, and because they have always failed to give me the strongest shit possible, I must turn to drugs and alcohol to kill the pain. Anything to stop the feeling. Addiction is the least of my worries now. It's either them or death. And because I am too chickenshit to gut myself at this time, being trashed beyond belief seems to be the only choice. Maybe then I won't give a shit what people think of me. Because as it stands, I am on the brink. And if I don't act now, or if the doctors fail to act, the end will be nearer than ever. Melodramatic. I know. Believe me. My father was too for a while.