“Here’s to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald
I got drunk shortly after my last post. I feel emotionally drained. I poured so much out to Superman last night. All without shedding a tear. Damn. Why couldn’t Batman keep his mouth shut? Now he’s on my mind, among other things. I needed him last night. I needed familiar arms while I fucking reminisced about my past abuse. I’m a sad drunk. I don’t feel like doing anything today. I’ve already skipped two of my classes. I think I’ve hit an emotional low. I have shit to do. I need to get out of this funk. I need to get out of this cycle. I always become slightly depressed after talking or thinking about my past. Why does it still have such a strong hold on me? Why do I let it affect me this way? I’m a grown woman. It was years ago. I thought I would be passed it by now. I was wrong. Where the hell is Batman when I need him? I need more alcohol. I need more sleep. I need closure. At the moment, only one out of three are accessible to me. I guess I’m going to sleep the day away.