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From My Journal: October 2, 2008

December 9th, 2009

The holidays are starting.  I hate the holidays.  Ever since my friends and I went cruising that night ten years ago.  We were just having a good time. Why am I the only one who survived?  We were riding up and down Main Street checking out friends from school and having fun.  When Sheryl went to make the turn, that damn truck never stopped and everyone died but me.  Some of our friends sitting on the side of the road saw it.  I will never forget it.  We had won our big football game against our rivals the night before and everyone was in high spirits.  I never saw Sheryl and Patsy again.  By the time I was let out of the hospital, they were buried.

Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008It isn’t fair!  I hate this time of year.  I know there are about ten messages on my phone from my parents and brother and friends, but I am not going home.  I got out of there as soon as I was old enough.  I do not date.  I barely function outside of work.  I just want to drink and forget about that night.  I take my pot, I take my vodka and to hell with the rest of the world from Friday afternoon to Monday morning.  I do my time as a teller and jump for joy every time there is a holiday so I can have an extra day off to be alone.

I feel so bad this time of year, so guilty.  Sometimes I think about killing myself on the anniversary of Sheryl and Patsy’s deaths.  How could this happen to them? We were all going to graduate and move to California so Sheryl could be an actress and Patsy could write and I could design buildings.  Now all I design are vodka bottles two high except they fall down.  I can’t even do that right.

I think maybe I will do it this year.  I will end it all.  I will just take myself out of this miserable existence  some prankster called fit to call life.  Freaking phone is ringing again.  I am not answering it.

OMG!  My sister in law said my brother needs me.  He is in the hospital!  What the hell?  I gotta go. I have to get there.  My brother?  He is the strongest person I know!   What the hell happened to him?  I have to call a freaking taxi!

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  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008
  • Drug Addiction Stories   From My Journal: October 2, 2008

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