So I gave in last Thursday night & had a few beers (4 to be exact). Was a rough day, I was depressed, and I wasn't working out, so I figured, "why the fuck not?". Felt shitty the next morning and remembered why I stopped. Saturday night though, I had two before going out to a couple shows, thought it might loosen me up. It did help a bit, but I still ended up sad, as per usual.
I have four left, and am still depressed (on top of being uber-stressed out from work still), so I decided I'm going to finish them tonight. The plan is not to buy any more, at least for a while.
I really wish I was the kind of person who could find hope in something eventually. Unfortunately, I know the truth...
Hope is dead, lying in the same shallow grave as love and affection.
6:13 p.m. - 2015-05-07
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