Today, I am hanging on to my sobriety by my fingernails. This week has been a
nightmare, and next week is looking worse. If it weren't for the fact that I
have someone who loves me dearly and a mother who I love and who needs me, I'd
probably chuck it all, say fuck it, and be swigging from a wine bottle.

How'd I get myself into this mess? How'd I get to be this old and still be
working in a place where people behave like teenagers, or worse? How'd I get to
a place where my teeth are on edge a great deal of the time, my shoulders reside
around my earlobes, and I have headaches that make me want to sleep for the rest
of the millenium.

I have to stay strong for myself. As much as I want that frigging bottle of wine
-- and I know all I have to do is get in the car and drive to the liquor store
-- I can't. It's hard today, hard to say no to the voice in my head that's
telling me one night, just one night, just one night, then you can go back to
being sober. So what? One night will not kill me. But I know that one night will
lead to another and another and another and soon I'll be residing below ground.
Today I feel as though I don't care. Tonight I will distract myself somehow.
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

S. Gibbons
November 12, 2004