It all started about 10 years ago, right before my tenth birthday. I remember my mom joking about what she would get me. She died about a month before my birthday. That's the first time I've ever felt that kind of hurt.

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I got older, and I started stressing about the fact that I didn't have any control of any aspect of my life. I turned to Bulimia and anorexia for quite a few years. I hit my rock bottom around 3 years ago, right before my 18th birthday. I got very sick. To the point where I couldn't stand up. I ended up getting hospitalized. I met my then boyfriend a month before that. He was extremely controlling, he raped me, he beat me. I told no one. I wanted to be happy so badly. I recovered from my eating disorder in a way, I started worrying about other things instead of the calories. Then, after two years with him, and him trying to choke me after busting him cheating on me (on snapchat) I broke up, and returned to my old ways. I became an alcoholic, I stopped eating entirely and tried to end my life - which resulted in a friend of mine finding me and getting me to the hospital. I'd died that night if it weren't for that person. I ended up in the psych ward. I were extremely underweight. I ended up catching up with an old friend of mine, which resulted in a relationship between the two of us after i got out.

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I moved 10 hours away from my birth place, and I recovered one again. There's quite a few more details but I'm not feeling strong enough to mention them right now. I bonded a lot with his father during the two years I've been with my now boyfriend.

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And then, about two weeks ago - he started acting weirdly. Like, he couldn't remember where he put things, what day it was, he spoke differently and acted way different than he ever has. He lost quite a lot of weight too fast, It scared the shit out of the whole family.

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It turned out to be, not one, but two brain tumors. They said that they're most likely cancerous. He's in the hospital right now. They're placed too complicated to be removed, so he has to either do chemo or radiotherapy. Also He's a few years into his sixties. Which makes the survival rates even less. I'm scared shitless. I love the man.

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Then a few hours ago, my own father got into a car accident. High speed, truck hit the car and it got totally wrecked. He might be hurt, I'm not sure yet. This is all too much. Waay too much.

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I can't deal. So, I'm drinking again. I hope it all goes away, My confession is: that I'm not as strong as I thought I'd be. And I'm so scared, I'm so fucking scared to lose the people I love. I can't do anyrhing at this point, and it kills me.

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I might as well drink the last bit of vodka I got left, and hope for the best.

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TL:DR: All is shit.