The sharp edges of time… So anyway been clean for a week, however every second feels like a sharp cut. With every second that passes I just think „so this just raw existing without any set of comfort“. Worst part is that while I want to distract myself the fucking cuts come back. It gets worse then good and again worse. Living by clichés helps only as far as you stop questioning it and act open them. „Easy does it“, „One second at a time“, „a greatful heart doesn‘t need to drink“ etc. Withdrawal is a sign of healing as perverse as it may seem. But damn. When I am drunk, high etc I want to get sober. When I am sober I want to get drunk.