I watched my daddy kill himself with pain pills and alcohol and didn’t do anything to stop it…. because I was addicted too.
Since we broke up the kitchen counter has been used to prepare booze far more often than it’s been used to prepare an actual meal.
I asked to go to rehab for drugs and alcohol.. because I thought it was better than telling them that I might be losing my mind… The only difference – now… I KNOW I am
I drink too much. But I like it.
I only cry when I’m drunk…. I’m terrified this is the only time I feel emotions. but I’m more scared of not feeling anything, which is why I still drink.
I hide my bottles of vodka under my daughters bed P.S. your daughter always knew
Sometimes when you’re drunk you scare the shit out of me… but the fact that I think I’m in LOVE with you scares me more than anything you could say or do….
My mommy loves her bottle more than me