I'll have another one, please.

To make myself feel better, I'm drinking vodka and I'm reaching that inebriated stage that means I'm feeling pretty good now. I felt as bad as you can get and spent a good hour crying. I couldn't stop crying and considered using the hash that I found in the cake tin to roll a joint with. I changed my mind and went for the vodka bottle instead. I figured it was the least harmful of the two in combination with my medicines. There would be less chance of hallucinations.

I like this inebriated stage I find myself in now, because the last few hours have been quite emotional and painful. Nobody has died, it hasn't been as bad as all that, don't get me wrong. Now that I'm slightly drunk, I can almost laugh at the reason why I was so very much upset, but I'm sure that when I'm sober again, I will be upset all over. I may have to stay drunk. At least I''m still able to type, albeit slowly.

You may know that last night I slept nine hours in the first time in forever and that I was overjoyed by this. Finally, after years of many sleepless nights. I got these hours of sleep by taking a combination of my old sleep pills and the new. My psychiatrist had told me to try this. I thought that finally we had found the magic formula.

He called me today and said that I could not do this again. Well, he told me that I could only do this sometimes when I needed a good night's sleep. So here I am again, faced with sleepless night so that I won't get addicted to the new sleeping pills while I really don't give a shit. I'm already addicted to the old ones.

It was like someone kicked me in the stomach and took away something very precious that I had finally gotten. I've had sleepless nights for so long and they mess up my life so badly and mess with my moods and my daily rhythm so very much. My whole day gets screwed up because of my bad nights and at night I sit behind the computer like a hypo-manic maniac and turn out idiotic posts.

I'm probably turning out an idiotic post now, but I don't care. I'm mad as hell and need another drink.

I refuse to take the new sleeping pills at all now, even though my psychiatrist has written a new prescription for them and faxed it to the pharmacy. They will be delivered tonight. I'm not going to make myself happy with a good night's sleep every once in a while to only have bad nights of sleep the rest of the time. I'm either going to sleep well all of the time or not at all. I'm boycotting the whole damn system.

I wrote my psychiatrist a very angry email to which I got a very polite reply, saying that sleeping pills are not the answer. He's saying that to someone who hasn't slept well in years and who finally had nine hours worth of sleep. How very wonderful. Isn't the medical profession humane?

I suppose I'm very angry and there's nothing like an angry drunk. You can only feed her more booze and hope she becomes jolly. As a matter of fact, part of me is jolly and really doesn't give a damn anymore. As long as there's vodka in the bottle, I'm okay. By the way, I'm drinking real Russian vodka.

Chances are that I'll become an alcoholic yet. Or a pothead. I haven't decided which it's going to be yet. I guess it depends on which I can afford best. They're both expensive addictions. They have to fit in your budget. I guess you could do them instead of eating and lose a lot of weight. You could buy cheap beer, it wouldn't have to cost an arm and a leg and it would fill you up. You'd just have to get the kind with the highest alcohol percentage. It would take all your troubles away. I've never had as much sympathy for an alcoholic.

I just want my sleep and I'll do whatever I can to get it. I want to sleep through the night like I did last night. I want not to be sleepy through the day and to not have to take naps. I want even tempered moods. I don't want to be hypo-manic when I'm up during the night. I don't want to drink many cups of coffee to keep me n an even keel.

Right now I like alcohol very much and its effects. I find them very comforting. I wonder why I didn't turn to it before? Yes, I know I have in the past, but I always forsook it. All I need is a Sugar Daddy to keep up my supply. A bottle of vodka a day ought to do it. Maybe half a bottle would do. I don't want to fall into a stupor.

I don't think I will be able to walk the dog tonight. I think I can't walk in a straight line. It would be noticeable if I tried. I think I'm a good drunk, though. I make sense halfway. All I need now is a tropical island and a white beach and a blue sea and some palm trees. And a life of leisure and debauchery. No care in the world. That's my secret wish. I'd hate to die of liver disease, though.But maybe it would all be worth it.

Yours fondly,
Nora