October 10, 2000 (thing)
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|It was the start of my second day without [alcohol] in my system.|
I have managed to screw up several [relationship]s in the past few months, all the girls said that i drank too much. I work part time in a [bar] and this is not good.
Around 5pm the shakes were to much to handle, especially with the stress of all business, I had two [beer]s to settle down and concentrate better on my work. So far, so good.
At [Midnight] I arrive home and watch a [movie] and settle into [bed]. [Time] passes. Darkness. I am still [awake]. Everything seems like a [blur]. I [fear] bedtime because of the [nightmare]s and the recurring [dream]s. I [fear] conscienceness because of the [stress] and [pressure] of daily [life]. A couple drinks makes me feel fine but only temporarily, I know later on it'll do more [harm] than [good]. The girls I meet and hangout with [encourage] it but the ones I want to be with [discourage] it and have since left.
As I laid down about ready to [drift] off into unconscienceness, I felt good knowing that even though i [fail]ed [today], at least I didn't get hammered and that the next [morning] would be one where I remembered most of what happened the [night] before.