Blah . . .

So conflicted.  Between what was, what is, and what is to be.  I was at the "top of my game".  I had a job, an apartment, a car, good friends, and was working on my personal issues to reach Happily Ever After and then I threw it all away.  I knew what I was getting into when I started down the path and here I am.  I've lost everything and now . . . I'm not even sure what I want to write about that hasn't already been written before.  I had this great epiphany the other day when I came home and my family confronted me w/ an eviction notice that they say was more of a final warning than an actual eviction notice, even though it looked pretty official to me.  So I have two weeks to change my ways and of course I blew it right away.  I know they know, it's obvious.  I can't hide it anymore.  It's reached the point where I barely even try.  I need help.  I know where to get help, I've sought help, but I haven't taken that step.  I can't.  I don't know why I can't take the step.  Go to a meeting.  It seems so simple.  Doesn't it?  But for me it's like finding religion.  You have to want to believe before you can actually believe. Right now, I know that I can't move forward before I take care of my most pressing issue.What I want to write about is guilt.  As soon as I partake, the guilt creeps in.  Or rather, as the time comes to face my family again, knowing how out of it I am, it slams me in the face.  I hate myself and what I've become.  Please God, give me the strength to do what I know must be done.  Please.  Please.  Please. I want to take my final chance and use it for all that it's worth.  I want to be part of this family.  I want to feel loved.  I don't want to feel guilty for my state of mind, and still, I want to give in.  Even as I write this, I would love to partake one last time.  How many times have I used those words: "one last time"?  Too many to not know that there is no one last time.  I don't want my little sister to see me this way.  I'm going to come down stairs at 5 and make myself a modest dinner and I'm going to have to face them.  Why isn't the look of disappointment and fear on the face of my little sister enough to not do it?  My little sister is afraid that I'm going to kill my parents in their sleep.  That's horrible.  That's what I've become to that little girl that cried her eyes out 7 years ago when I went off to Job Corps?  Who wrote me letters saying how much she loved and missed me.  How did happen?  She still loves me.  I know she does.  But if this is what I am to be, I love her too much to put her through it, but not enough to simply quit.  That's all it would take to bring happiness back in the face of the little girls who gave my life meaning when I was struggling with the simpler and deeper issues in life.  Loneliness, etc.   But I'm rambling and this isn't getting anywhere.  I just wish that my family were enough, I wish I knew why it doesn't make a bit of difference except to make me feel guilty after the fact. 

Today . . .

Today, I am going to a meeting.  It's not much, but it's a first step.  Actually, based on passed history, I probably won't go.  Who knows.  I know that I've been stuck in this rut for too long.  I know I had issues before, but now I have a more pressing issue that I have to resolve before I can move forward.  Yeah, I know I brought this issue on myself.  I knew what I was getting into when I started, but now it's time to break the cycle and the first step is going to a meeting.  Wish me luck?