THE TILTED ROOM

Fuck. This is a hard post to write.

The cursor is blinking at me.

What next?

This blank screen is sitting across from me, like a cynical friend, eyebrow raised, waiting for me to tell them the truth. Wanting the whole story.

And….?

Fuck it.

I’m going to rehab. 

There. I said it. I’m doing it. I’m going.

February 21. A week from tomorrow.

I chatted with the intake specialist last night. I’m calling her at noon to complete the registration, put in my deposit, and make it real.

I fell asleep crying last night. Damn Adele on the Grammy’s pushed me over the edge. Hubs and I were having a rare talk, and he wants me to go. He prefaced it with “Please, don’t misinterpret this, but we need some time apart. To figure out who we are and what we want.”

So I’m going to rehab. For a month.

I…