Support Groups and Cotton Sheets that I Wish Were Mine

I did something unexpected today; I was having a hard night at home alone  as I was staring into my glass of wine. I wanted so badly to get drunk, to sleep. Then, I remembered a referral to a Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance group. Within 40 minutes, I was sitting in Conference Room 8, apathetically discussing my triggers and Father’s Day.

I am proud of myself for going. I think it was a good decision.

Now, it is bedtime. I’m home alone, save my furry canines. The house is quiet. The neighborhood is asleep. 

I feel a familiar depression looming over me. I want to jump in my car and race to my girlfriends apartment, but I would almost certainly fall asleep at the wheel.

I feel like crying, but I have nothing left to give.

On a happier note, my girlfriend decided we needed a night out after a BRUTAL workweek. So, she booked a hotel room at the beach, and we had a much needed relaxing night.

I awoke to the warm sun hitting my skin and hers. The way her hair stuck to her temples nearly killed me. I love the way she smells in her sleepy state, the warmth of her skin, softness… We went out to breakfast and walked down to the pier. Pure bliss.

Here is an abrupt ending since I am too exhausted to think of a sign off.

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