That Nothing - Not Booze,

At Times It May Seem Worse - Harder, At Least - To Live Through The Despair Of This Loss Without The Temporary Comfort Of Our Addictive Behaviour. We Cannot Drown Our Sorrows. We Must Face The Fact That We Don’t Know, Really, Where We Are, How We Got Here, How Long The Pain Will Last, Or How To Move Past It. That Uncertainty May Be The Most Painful Part Of Not Knowing A God: No One Is There To Reassure Us That A God Will Take The Pain And Confusion Away. We Simply Don’t Know. And We Have No Way To Numb Ourselves Or To Forget The Condition We’re In.

You Can Only Whine For So Long. Then You Need To Get Your Life Back.

The Fact That You Were Essentially Dead Does Not Register Until You Begin To Come Alive.

We Were At Another Funeral Party. I Wasn’t Sure Who Had Died This Time, But It Was A Suicide, And Upsetting Because It Was Completely Out Of Season. No On Killed Themselves In Summertime. It Was Rude.

Hospitalizations In General Are Blurry. The Days Are The Same, Precisely The Same. Nothing Changes. Life Melts Down To A Simple Progression Of Meals. They Become A Way Of Life Fairly Quickly. You May Welcome This Transition. It May Seem Inevitable To You. You Have Been Removed From The World. It Is All Right, In A Way, Because There Is Nothing So Sure, So Safe, As Routine.