This was an older journal post, after my first AA meeting, the only one that I was forced to attend:

How do I even start this? "Hi, my name is Jessica and I'm an alcoholic". That seems like the most appropriate beginning. I may not have said those words aloud yet, but it doesn't make them any less true. It's unfortunate, but obviously something I'll learn to deal with....

I've been leery of keeping a diary for the past couple of years, considering that my last one was read by my nosey mother - she even wrote her own commentary in it! Regardless, it seems important now to keep one. I want a way to express my feelings, but that isn't my main motive. It's been brought to my attention that there may have been mental issues in high school that I knew nothing about. I've only just realized this, since I found myself looking at my old diaries. There were some very disturbing entries in them. Maybe I'll learn when I look at this diary, several years from now. Or, maybe not.

I feel like things are quickly falling apart, disintegrating in my hands. I've lost so much and gained so little. I've lost my "boyfriend", my home, my internet, my control, my mother, my dignity, my pride. I never thought I'd really be considered an ALCOHOLIC.

The word isn't scary until it's used to describe you. I'm being forced to go to meetings, but at least I've realized that I actually DO have a problem. I can't believe I never saw it before... I think I've always known, but have never been willing to admit it. I guess you really have no choice when all of your drunken bad decisions start overflowing and causing problems.

I wish I wouldn't have invited K over. I think that's one of my main regrets (besides hurting my mother, of course). I don't regret it because of what we did -- I very much enjoyed myself. I regret showing myself to him that way. I wanted him to see me as desirable, beautiful, worthy. Instead, I all but know I appeared slutty, easy, sloppy. It's painful because when we talked, I felt... FEELINGS. I started to like him. He is attractive, intelligent, kind, funny, and I wanted more. More than one night of physical touch. Based on our conversation this morning (or lack thereof), I don't see that happening. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. 

I wonder if I intentionally miss things up for myself. Maybe subconsciously, I don't feel like I deserve to be. Sure feels like deliberate sabotage...

So often lately, I've wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and just cry (cue pity-party). I'm surprised I haven't. I feel them, the tears, stuck inside of me. I'm so, so miserable. I just don't think I have much more strength left in me. I can't find the will or want to fight. If I wasn't such a coward, I think I would have ended this life. I wonder if reincarnation is real. I don't believe in anything or anyone anymore. I'm so lost. Worst part is, I don't believe I'm worth being found...