It just hurts.

This hurts so fucking bad. I am fine, I'm driving, talking with my husband about how good I feel, how happy I have been not drinking. Having a good strong day. Come home, clean, clean out the bathroom closet, find tons of stuff from when Dad was on hospice here, and I just fucking lose it. Everything is just darkness. So much hurts from that time. I find myself all of a sudden wanting to just dull this goddamn pain. Wanting to drink. Hearing it in my head. It's not fair. The whole thing is just fucked. I can't remember anything besides the end. All of the wrong decisions I made. All the things I tried to do the best I could. Now it's just over, he's fucking gone and I will never be with him again. And I coped with substances before and I coped after and I feel fucking doomed right now. I feel cursed with grief. It burns so bad. Why am I so self-destructive. I will hate myself if I drink. I hear myself trying to okay it. Trying to say hey, fuck it. This is horrible. You shouldn't try to get sober when it hasn't even been a year. And I hear truth and lying tied up completely in that. Will it always feel like this. Fuck this. The cruelty of suffering, disease, death, loss, fucking regret. I did the best I could and it was just nowhere near enough. Fuck all of this.