All the terrible things that have happened to me years ago, the reasons why I started drinking, have all come rushing back to me and I don't feel like I have ever really lived. Yet nothing is clear to me about how I ended up in hell. Why am I so tired and apathetic? I just want to go out and enjoy my self. Maybe stress about all this writing has sent me into shock or something. All my life I have done things to make others happy and I have no idea of who I am or what I want. Nothing is real anymore. I don't know what is wrong with me, but being sober doesn't make me feel better. But it's only two weeks. But I can moan and nothing will change. I have to finish this writing even if it doesn't make sense.