I'm back home. I'm alone and left with myself and thoughts of my baby girl (what could have and should have been).

I feel overwhelmingly empty inside as I have since that day and I'm beginning to feel as though I should simply succumb and leave this world... but my mother is still trudging along with her own abominable woe. She's the threadlike piece that keeps me holding on too, even when I most desparately wish to let go. Because of her suicide isn't an option for me right now. Otherwise I would lunge at the opportunity without as much of a second thought. Yet here I sit. Still breathing. Hoping that when I finally go to sleep (out of pure exhaustion from not sleeping) that I won't wake up.

However, tonight the goblins (or demons, if you so wish to call them) have come out and would like for me to join in the festivities of my suffering and misfortune. So I'm going to entertain them for a night and join in their morosely perverse games and see what happens; not that the results would be unknown or surprising prior to stepping into the ring. I just don't care tonight and I'm going to drink until my emotions can't be felt and my eyeslids do that they "thing" that they haven't much done since I was told that a part of me died...