Day 13 ……. the unlucky number 

Woke up feeling like shit. Just can’t be atsed feel so crap. My stomach hurts, its full already but it’s only morning. I just want to cry but I’m out of tears. Woke up and my roommate gets bought a drink in bed. Me nothing. See. No one thinks of me. I don’t have ‘friends’ in here. They hate me. They think I’m weird. They judge me. They talk about me. I know they do. I want to go back to sleep and never open my eyes. All my positivity from yesterday is gone. Fuck off life. And this is before I’ve even got out of bed 

I feel like I’ve been punished because I’m ill. I feel like I’m in prison. It’s bank holiday weekend and I can’t do anything. I’m stuck here. I can’t go sit in a beer garden I can’t go out and can’t do anything. How’s that fair. All because I’m ill. You don’t get punished for breaking your leg. You still have your freedom. They give you crutches or a wheelchair to help. Here they take that away and instead give me a leash as short as anything and watch me like a hawk. Why couldn’t I just break my leg instead of getting this 😦 

One thought on “Day 13 ……. the unlucky number 

  1. Yeppers, I get it. I was in the program on my birthday. It’s not like I ever did anything for my birthday anyway nor did people ever call to wish me a happy birthday but that wasn’t the point. The staff got me some mini cupcakes and everyone sang. Luckily I’m lactose intolerant so couldn’t eat one. However, I had to think, “what would it be like to be home alone, yet another year, on my birthday, hoping someone would call, knowing no one would, hoping I’d get a card, knowing I wouldn’t?” In retrospect I’m glad I was in the program. The greatest gift I could give myself is to recover.

    Like

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