Let's discuss this concept called "therapy". Specifically, group therapy, of which I have been going through for the last months. I've done 42 hours (out of the 75 court mandated hours) and haven't gone in 2 weeks.
There are many reasons why it's good/bad; lets start with the good. It has been helpful to talk about my problems with anonymous strangers. I can say things to these people I wouldn't tell me Mother. Or Father. And I can learn from other people's situations.
BUT, after spending 2 months in a small room, listening to heroin addicts being berated, or ex-con's who would rather be in jail, or whatever the FUCK else, I needed a break. And in addition, identifying one's own issues (as I think I've done), being beaten over the head with the same message just gets exhausting.
Last night, I had a horrific dream, in which I re-imagined the car accident I was responsible for. Drunk as I was when it originally happened, I clearly remember the officer that arrested me saying that had I not been wearing a seatbelt, I would have been dead - through the windshield.
So last night, and I can still see this clear as day, that happening, having my head severed and watching the paramedics cleaning up my lifeless, headless body, blood and glass mixed together everywhere, lighted with blue strobes.
So...yeah. I've learned my fucking lesson. And I don't need anyone else to tell me how lucky I am to be alive, or how worse it could have been. I've thoroughly beaten the living shit out of my self about this whole thing, and probably will continue to do so.
But maybe more therapy will teach me not to, and get over that hump of feeling guilty, and shitty and beyond remorseful. In the meantime, I will keep working my ass off. And paying off the money I owe these people that are trying to help me.