…isn’t every drunk disabled?

:It was wished on me at a young age that my physical pain tolerance could be switched with my emotional…

I’m trying to be all deep and I can’t even type the words right.

My husband is in jail…of course I’m going to get drunk in the middle of the week when I half to get up at fuckin 5 am. my anxiety is already kicking in.

I need to make Ozzy’s bong (kong). Don’t want my mother in law to wake up. Don’t want to face the shame of being drunk on  a work night. trying to promise yourself that you’ll go to work in the morning, but are 85% sure you’re going to “work from home”

Ozzy boy sitting at my feet. givin me the “it’s ok you’re drunk in the middle of the week mama, gimme a combo” look.

9:25 PM  can I make the bong, take a shower, eat a snack and fall asleep in time to be able to function at 5 fuckin am.

fuckim lil bottels of wine

9:30pm- still haven’t moved. thinkin about combos.

I wonder how many packages I had sent to the house tonight…

My husband is in jail…of course I use retail therapy.

I am broken. I was broken before my husband went to jail, now I’m just broken and lonely.

I don’t want to be around people…I don’t want to be alone.

It huts…I’m numb