I think I’m in need for another refill for Prozac.I haven’t felt this way in awhile and I’m starting to remember how much I hated. I always tell people I don’t regret anything in life, which I really don’t. But I’m starting to wish those things I don’t regret were done a little differently. I need to stop pretending my life has glamour and candelabra and stop ignoring real issues. No, I don’t have a drinking problem nor a drug problem. Its only a problem when I’m sneaking into these clubs ritually and can’t have a good time unless I do a couple lines with 15 shots of vodka . Then that is when I become a problem. But am I addicted to alcohol/drugs or the loud music and lights that bring along those things? I’m so fucking confused. But there I go again. Bragging about these issues like I have something to be proud of. And thinking these issues make my life better than most 18 year-olds. And then I have all these people all around me wishing they could have my life.. But in reality, I’m wishing I could have theirs. But this is just a minor issue in the big-black-book of issues I’ve been writing since birth. Be careful of what you do wish for, I’m learning it the hard way now. But of course as soon I walk to the front of the line, flaunt my fake ID, get into the club, do my lines, have some shots... All this fucking confusion goes away.. And that’s why I keep doing it...But the next morning the confusion rushes back, along with the vomit and bile rushing through my throat. I guess this is classified as a fucking addiction.