Another month of resetting, telling myself I need to stop, and resetting again.
Life has felt like too much since losing my job.
Tried to leave my relationship, fueled by wine and encouragement from an acquaintance (thought they were a friend), and caved from my loneliness.
Drinking myself sick. This “friend” was happy to reassure me not to talk to my husband, and simultaneously callous toward any perceived weakness on my part. “No judgement” though.
Confused and lonely. I made it a few days without talking to my husband, in literal self-imposed isolation, aside from texts to some family, the friend, and social media. Drinking myself to sleep.
Back home. Depressed, lacking motivation in general. Needing to stop this slow suicide. Life keeps passing by. I keep checking out, like I still can’t decide if I even care anymore, but here I am.