The Disgruntled Relapse Within All Addicts
It’s been lurking for a while, hasn’t it?
Typical guilt ridden morning of misery, eh? It happened again? What you swore would never happen again, did. What you do this time you fucking moron?
Today’s the fucking day!
No more of this, no more of that, time to get this fucked up train of destruction back on the “happy” track. You’re mentally prepared this time, you’re readier than you’ve ever been!
This last time was a fucking doozie!
I mean, holy fuck! You about lost your boyfriend/girlfriend again, and possibly your job! But you pulled off the impossible you fucking idiot, good job! You love making promises you can’t keep. It gives you that subtle little feel of some form of accountability that doesn’t exist in your world.
But it makes you feel better, eh?
You pull your fat ass out of bed, take a leak, brush your teeth, all while avoiding any contact with the mirror. Why in the fuck is there a image reflecting back at you first thing in the morning? More importantly at your worst look of the day? Not to mention being hungover while hating life, and yourself, yet again.
