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unhinged
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sobriety is a joke to me. my natural state is that of a slobbering mess. sometimes when i'm sober i can cry so hard i can't stand up. for instance, i'm sober right now and these words aren't coming out of me how i'd like them to. it doesn't help to be isolated here with no transportation. it doesn't help to have a father who refuses to acknowledge that i'm sick, just irresponsible and lazy. i want out and i feel horribly trapped. i can't sleep. i don't want to be awake. my skin itches with the need to peel it off. i dig my whiteless fingernails into my flesh hoping that the itch will go away, but i know that it won't. my cheeks have been stinging with tears. the kind that cut like glass. i feel like i've fucked everything up. this was supposed to be poetic somehow. instead, it's only succeeded in making me feel more petulant, alone, and filled with self_disgust . i don't want to be sober, not one more goddamn day.
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051003
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