It feels like it happened to someone else... Like I watched it in a movie.
I drank. Being 2 weeks shy of 6 months :-(
There was absolutely nothing pleasurable about it. It felt so wrong, yet I went and did it anyway. Do I hate myself today? Oh, very much so.
There was no pleasure, no buzz, just nasty and overwhelming anxiety ('it's not working like it should, maybe drink it faster!')
There was no cool breeze, no sunshine in my hair and no frosty, cold glass of white wine. That's how I pictured it for months and that's what I felt deprived of.
Well, it was nothing like that. It felt wrong, dirty and anxious.
I'm typing it all out to all of you with similar romantic images in your heads. Don't be fooled. IT'S ALL A TERRIBLE LIE.
I'm also typing it to be accountable because I'm not going to lie anymore. I shared my triumphs here, I will share this failure.
It hurts, it really hurts.
Any words of encouragement and strength will be welcomed. I really need a hug now
