No seriously, its a rant. I'm not going to say anything nice or positive. Probably if you try to support me I'll be like 
I don't really know why I'm here. Maybe I hope I'll say something ameliorating in a few hours, when I calm down a bit. Maybe.
So, three days clean, fall off the wagon, four days, fall off, five days, fall off...now seven, and big surprise, I fell off yesterday. My rear end is outraged.
Determined self flagellation is the order of my days. I am angry, for instance, that I disappeared from here almost immediately after the most well-intentioned, yearning-to-recover hello and dove back to old patterns. Angry, too, that I'm rude enough to come back here only to vent, rather than contribute something positive. I mutter under breath at NA meetings as though incanting, trying to conjure a sort of wall around me.
My story is nothing to theirs; grainy black and white to their high res. The drug addict's is the silliest of ridiculum vitaes, hardly something to compete in and yet somehow I've established a grading system and ensured I come out lowest, so I can go eat worms. (Translated into my life this reads: go back to my heavy-fisted, cokefiend boyfriend, whom I left barely two days ago) But mostly I avoid meetings at present.
There's a whole barrage of other irritations and itches in my spirit right now, fermenting under my skin (
I want to tear off my skin, I'm hot). Lots of them...but you get the idea. I come here, then, stinking of self pity, longing for my self destructive baggies of tricks and nothing more to say for myself, and...I dunno, sorry I guess...?