Dear Diary,

I'm here again. Wasn't far away, just absent. Seeing people getting hurt or upset due to my blogs, decided to stop.
Funny to see, that still I only see an urge to write and not read. I'm seeing I have a great number of blogs, but avoid reading them.

It's what I actually am now, what I became, or what I maybe always was. A coward. No, that's too harsh. Scared? Yes, more that way. Scared of facing my own truth. Of who I really am. I still face problems nowadays. Not as scary and mad as before, but still disturbing. It's like having a double personality; one strong and emotionless, the other scared, little child should never be hurt. Two complete opposites. 

There's a saying on meeting your own self along the way, and this is what actually is happening. I've been drinking again - badly. Like no stopping. Why? I have no answer. Tried to find out with the psychologist, who expressed sympathy in me being a child born to alcoholic parents. True. Constantly being exposed to stress, from very young onwards. True. Dealing with everything childhood, puberty, early grown-ups, and adulthood brings on my very own. True. But all this, why does it persistently lead to me abusing alcohol? Makes no sense, as I have seen only wrong examples, why would it make me follow what's wrong? Am I really doing it just to exit madness which life brings me. Probably it is, but not by purpose, not by planning. That's just when it already went wrong. Is it the medications which makes me handle it less easy? Hitting me hard? Partly, but I've been wasted many times before - countless times.

And now I'm here again, after a period of soberty - no, not soberty, I've done my drinking, but quite normally, wasted again. On purpose. I fell off my goddamn bike. Bleeding and all. And the shame I had to face - again - at home when my beloved saw me there again. I had again have to disappoint here, and it always backfires.

I could have make up so many excuses, this time I chose to bury it upon the miss of my parents, but to me also this seems a lie - a quite bad one. I've lied so many times, to so many people. If you could actually get rich of lying, I'd be a millionaire. But it's all about hurting and disappointing. It's got nothing to do with my alleged PTSD or accident or being an orphan, it's simply a malfunction inside myself and I want it to go AWAY.

I have to go to police again tomorrow morning, second time the investigation of the accident has been closed, and this time it's definitive. I'm scared as hell and it doesn't make me think about it easier to see my case finally breaking through one way or the other, it makes me just scared and little. What I'd do for a drink right now!! fuck, that's it, that's it. I'm simply terrified. Of myself. No one else. Nothing else. It's just what it's like being selfish, egocentric. Didn't you tell me once before? That I'm narcissistic. And I never believed you. Maybe it's time.