But first, whisky.

Even talking to a friend going through much the same situation as me didn’t help…in fact it made things worse. Not his fault of course. 

But after he mentioned the pain he’s in, I started focusing on the wrongs and the pain of the wrongs I felt and still feel, and of course I just spent an hour forcing those images into my face, searching for names and times and considering ruining people’s lives since they contributed to ruining mine. That’s what I want to to do but don’t think I ever would, not in my current situation at least. But that desire to share and extend the suffering to those deemed guilty for it is natural. Focusing on it the way I am probably isn’t of course, but it’s all I have, because I can’t talk to her, I can’t have what was again and it looks like I won’t ever have any future with her. Yes, I’m just rambling. Sorting. Wallowing. All at once.

Sharing with my friend even a little didn’t help me at all, it made me feel terrible for him and sent me further down today than I was. Not sure what method there is to get out of these days when I’m in them, I’ve tried everything I can think of.

I know what I’ll be doing tonight. But first, whisky.


2 thoughts on “But first, whisky.”

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