Another bad few days. Tuesday night Ashley set me off. She was talking to me about how she hates her roomates again. I'm getting tired of having this conversation with her. I guess I was a little too 'in your face' with my responses. I want her to change the situation or stop complaining about it. I've watched this affect her for too long, I see how they walk on her. My anger got the best of me, but I was trying to help. My reward was discovering she didn't know if she loved me.
I thought I was above this. I know, no matter what she says or what my brain tells me, that we will be together in the end. I know the goals I set forth are not aspirations, but destinations. Yet somehow I caved. I broke into my sisters room, found her stash, and began drowning as I've done countless times before.
I got drunk Tuesday night, skipped school and continued drinking Wednesday, skipped school again to recover Thursday. I was vomiting for hours. Small wonder. I put away more liquor in 48 hours than most people can consume in a week. I was even drunk around my niece, though I doubt she realized how bad it really was. I justify my bad example by knowing that her mother isn't a better example. She drinks around her all the time, so what's the problem when I do it?
The problem is that I want to recover. I want to stop, to put it away. My sister revels in drinking, still believes it serves her as a positive thing. I abhorr it. Hate it because of the damage it has caused and continues to cause. I'm afraid to even think about the condition of my liver and kidneys. My stomach and regularity problems aren't incidental, as my niece pointed out so matter-of-factly to me last night. They are a result. And considering the life I've been living for the past few years, those complications are minor enough. Every day I wake up hungover I wonder if my liver will fail. Some nights after bingeing I feel certain I'm going to have another seizure. I am in pain, miserable when I spend hours over the toilet, vomiting up that foul, yellow ichor, wondering if the next time I do it if it will be mixed with blood. This is the sickness that has become all too common in my life.
I seem to meet with failure every time I try to dry out. I make all these breakthroughs in my classes, but when it comes down to it, I'm never able to resist when I need to most. I have to find a way to change, before I lose it all.