Well I'm trying really fucking hard... and that doesn't mean that I don't make fucked-up decisions and find myself not doing well a lot of times, got narcanned Christmas morning, found dead on a third floor hallway of a shit hole hotel...(relapse rocks, right)... anyways, it was fucking unbelievably horrific my ex-husband was the only one who answered my call from the hospital....even my dad hung up on me, but basically, just have to remind myself even if cats have nine lives I've used 5 of them right now nobody can keep getting that lucky... and I love being alive, and I hate the depths of depravity that that shit takes me to so it's unfortunate that I have to constantly remind myself about that but when I start to forget it, that's when I start to fuck up