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Evidently I enjoy torturing myself.  Who knew?

So I decided I’d take a peek at the browser history on Josh’s table.

Porn.  Motorcycles.  How to brew beer / make moonshine.  How to drink secretly and not get caught.  (nice)

How much Ambien constitutes a lethal dose?

That was the last thing he looked at last night.

I know he needs help, I’ve known all along.  But every time I’ve tried to arrange for him to get it, he finds a reason to not take it or he purposely sabotages it.  Apparently he hasn’t hit rock bottom yet – that place we all end up eventually and we’re faced with the choice of either staying down and dying or taking the hand that’s being offered and pulling ourselves back up.

Sometimes it’s better to walk away than get pulled down into the hole, too.

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