I can’t help but realize what a broken record I am and how sick and tired I am of it. Another night of drunkeness, another needless fight, and another lost day. I laid in bed this morning and seriously contemplated suicide. Wow. that one hit hard. I wrote this yesterday but had to stop. Its a really scary thing to say out loud, but my thoughts have gone there and in some ways I don’t really feel negatively about that. I feel like it would be the best thing I could do for the people that love me since I feel like I am ruining their lives but the oddest thing is I don’t want to leave the dogs. Hmm feelings are strange. I am not going to actually do that, but the idea just seems like the only reprieve from this constant internal dialogue. The silence that it would afford seems so i don’t know, necessary.