DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID


PROFILE GUESTBOOK OLD OLDER OLDEST
Something happened today, that I'm not even going to try and describe here. Of course not. It's my fucking diary, so why would I write about things that actually mattered here? Thing is, whatever I would write wouldn't do it justice. I couldn't adequately capture those moments in time...

When I was still drinking, and I contemplated getting sober, I became very afraid. Not that I couldn't ever drink again - though at the time, I couldn't for the life of me, imagine how not drinking was possible. No, I became afraid, because I knew if I wasn't medicating my emotions with alcohol, I would be forced to feel them. I didn't know how to feel anything. I always drank over any emotion. It terrified me to think of feeling.

Today, I cherish my emotions. Even the painful ones, because I get reminded of how rich my life is now, compared to what it was like before I got to feel.

Today, I was on-line, and right in the middle of a wonderfully rowdy brawl with a few other posters. One of them posted the story of how his brother had been murdered, and how this poster felt responsible for his brother's death. Just like that, my rocking good time became a punch in the gut, and disbelief, and anger and a heavy sadness that lingers still. Because the story was being told, right in front of my eyes, in real-time - I got to feel all those feelings in real time, too - they came and came. But I had no desire to stop them.

What a blessing. To be able to feel.



June 21, 2002

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008



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