I quit on May 16 after another public display of myself, trashed, falling down and wrecking my arms and legs, in front of my family and friends. Waking up with the usual physical discomfort, and being sick of being guilty. Being sick of being a drunk. Had to try again for my own sanity, my friends, but most importantly my family. I still cannot understand why some people can have one or two drinks and leave it at that and why I MUST get slammed drunk. Only then will I stop. Not because I want too but because I pass-out. I've tried convincing myself of everything and bargaining with myself that if I stay sober during the week, I can gladly get trashed on a weekend. This of course is nonsense. So many sick days from work. So many nights in which I have cooked food for dinner and don't remember eating it. So many sleepovers for my daughter where I cannot remember whether they stayed the night or were picked up by their parents. God, it makes me feel sick just thinking about it. But I have to keep writing about it so that I never become complacent - so that I never forget how it feels to be a drunken disgusting slob. It is important that I remember.