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journal entries 11th to 17th November.

How do I get my life away from the track it is on: towards my self-destruction. The shortening of my potential into a vacuum of self abuse which is built on whimsical ideals, of no real substance, because I appear to suffer too much to be alone. Humans are social creatures, and that's a fact which my genes, and my behaviour in culture is tied together within a façade I am compelled to, always, display: which is bollocks? 8 weeks until Epiphany and I've got to be somewhere on this day. A new adventure which isn't dictated by the yo-yoing, to-ing and fro-ing. I came back to the flat. I picked up the book I'd left at BrewDog and came direct across Lovell Park to the Grange. Made a Malaysian curry with some urid daal as a side plate. It's a Tuesday. Can I do a third day off alcohol? Oh please. It will feel like such an accomplishment which is a truly bizarre feeling. Am so far away from sobriety. I am who I am. Do I need an official diagnosis to keep me trapped here doi

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