I will let myself go

I may have said "I will never drink again", but latest news: I will drink again. I need to get away. I need to whipe away Martin Johansson's words from my scarred soul. If drinking is the only way that's what I will have to do. I hope there is whiskey or something else fiery that I can drink. I don't need any kind of special stuff; I just need something to take myself off. I break down and cry about seventeen times a day now and it makes no difference what I do. I even broke down because I got a carrot without the scale of it. I breathe deep, bite hard, count and keep it all inside, but it doesn't help. I chew on roasted rice, but it doesn't make much difference. I would leap out the window if that helped, but I knew I'd survive the fall. I would survive and I know that even though I deserve the pain deeply it wouldn't hurt at all. It didn't hurt when I cut my finger on a shaver and bled, it didn't hurt when I slammed the door over my hand on purpose. It's even more frustration when I can't even get the pain I des