I can't do this. I can't. I can't raise a child.

I'm trying. I'm trying so HARD to be healthy, but I want a drink. Or some Ativan. I miss the Ativan.

The nice night with Eben doesn't matter, the guilt is still suffocating.

Sorry for the babbling. More I could write...but I'm not anywhere near in the mood.

New picture. Go Red Sox. Woo-hoo.

Sorry for this entry. I think it's all the horomones talking.

Eben's cooking peanut butter soup with cow hearts. Anyone hungry?