Empty Smile
The final Bell has rung. Goodbye to all.
- Jul 13, 2018
- 1,785
Of pure hell of being in the psychiatric unit, the evil people have released me, under the condition that I am closely monitored by my brother and his wife, and that 3 times a week I must call my shrink. Failure to abide by the rules, could land me back in hell(not that I follow rules anyway).
Last time I was here, I went through a breakdown, and it got bad... Really fucking bad. Alcohol again, got the best of me. I'll tell you the short version since I'm still not in the best of moods, mainly because I still don't want to be on this planet.
When I shared the story of my dream, it took me to the depths of hell that only the worst could probably see.
That night it threw me for a loop, whiskey, beer, vodka, repeat. That was my drink combination for the night. I can remember some of what happened, but the rest is pretty much shot.
Sometime during my drunken stupor, I sent a text message......whoops... That I don't remember. And apparently, the person I texted made some phone calls, and from there it must have went south for me, and I mean really south.
All I know for sure is again I wake up in the ER. And again, handuffed to the bed rail. Little later, the same doctor that released me a few weeks prior, walks in, and I realized from that point that I was fucked.
After about an hour of listening to her, and me not saying a single word, she welcomes me back, with a not so friendly "you're going to be here a while" tone of voice.
Fast forward to 2 days ago, when I got released. I got home, and found that my brother and wife, took all sharp objects, rope, alcohol and pills that I had in the house.
So they been playing prison guard for the last 2 days. I can't even fart without their permission. I think I'd rather be back in the happy house.
I had to get a new phone, since I somehow destroyed mine. I either slammed it on the floor, or smashed it with something.
But anyway, that's the short version.
Last time I was here, I went through a breakdown, and it got bad... Really fucking bad. Alcohol again, got the best of me. I'll tell you the short version since I'm still not in the best of moods, mainly because I still don't want to be on this planet.
When I shared the story of my dream, it took me to the depths of hell that only the worst could probably see.
That night it threw me for a loop, whiskey, beer, vodka, repeat. That was my drink combination for the night. I can remember some of what happened, but the rest is pretty much shot.
Sometime during my drunken stupor, I sent a text message......whoops... That I don't remember. And apparently, the person I texted made some phone calls, and from there it must have went south for me, and I mean really south.
All I know for sure is again I wake up in the ER. And again, handuffed to the bed rail. Little later, the same doctor that released me a few weeks prior, walks in, and I realized from that point that I was fucked.
After about an hour of listening to her, and me not saying a single word, she welcomes me back, with a not so friendly "you're going to be here a while" tone of voice.
Fast forward to 2 days ago, when I got released. I got home, and found that my brother and wife, took all sharp objects, rope, alcohol and pills that I had in the house.
So they been playing prison guard for the last 2 days. I can't even fart without their permission. I think I'd rather be back in the happy house.
I had to get a new phone, since I somehow destroyed mine. I either slammed it on the floor, or smashed it with something.
But anyway, that's the short version.
