Last night was a long, miserable night.
Last night was promising never to get drunk if a hangover involves throwing up because throwing up is the most disgusting, vile, degrading form of sickness I can imagine. I haven't done it years and I'd be perfectly happy to never experience it again.
Last night was cupping hot tea in my hands on the couch at 12 AM, and again at 3AM, praying this would be the last time.
Last night was lying in bed but not being able to sleep.
Last night was being seven years old again and needing my mom but my mom wasn't there.
Last night was a lot of "why did this have to happen now?" and "this isn't fair" and struggling to find the grace amid the discomfort.
Last night is over but I'm still kind of miserable because I'm home and school goes on without me and track starts today and I've always hated missing out. But sometimes you have to decide to take a break and cut your losses because you can't always keep going, not always. All my life I've been told to never ever give up, but I'm finding it's a balance. Sometimes you have to give up for a while if you want to get better. No sense in looking dedicated if it's going to hurt you.
So today I am home. Today I will catch up on my homework and sleep and regain my strength. And today, also, my parents come home.
I am not where I want to be, today. But it's alright.
Tomorrow I will start again.