The Sober Diaries Novels & Stories

The beginning of the same pattern that had destroyed everything before. I closed the notebook and pressed my palms against my eyes. My chest felt tight. I had been doing so well. Four months without a drink. Four months of showing up to therapy and actually talking. Four months of trying to be a person who did not ruin the people around him. And one casual sentence from Vivian had been enough to drag me right back to the edge.

'There are times when we stop, we sit still. We listen and breezes from a whole different world whisper.' 'Breath is the power behind all things. I breathe in and know that good things are going to happen.' 'Within you, there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself.' 'Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.' These were the quotes Carmen had saved in her old diary. A large notebook, she had from her childhood. The book he, her old bestie had bought for her.

My euphoria was over and Vic pulled away, as Anya coughed loudly behind him. I felt so embarrassed that I wanted a hole to open up right in front of me, so I can jump in and disappear! Why do I keep doing this to myself?? Why do I keep wanting something I would never get! I didn't have the time recover much as all my friends began to give me presents and wished me once again. Rahul and his girlfriend Pari were the last to wish me.

I thought that they were trying to prank me or something. "Babe are you seriously saying you can't see those things in the book?" Diana said. The book must have been created to be blank to me. They did that so that I wouldn't know there was a solution to my problem. They did that so that I wouldn't try to change my prophecy. But what am I going to do now? I can't see anything written in it and that means I would really need the help if my friends if I want to go far in my mission.

“In other words, I'm not running away from my parents and I'm not really hiding from anyone. At the moment, my residence in New York City is not a safe place for me. —Why ?— Justin quickly looked away, as he usually does when trying to get away from something. He took a deep breath and looked at the wall for a moment before continuing. To further reassure her, I grabbed her knee even more. There's no need to worry about that, Justin. Due to the fact that I have been sober for some time. Justin said he couldn't hear her because her voice was so weak, but I clearly heard her message. "I've been clean and sober for about a hundred days." “Justin, you've outdone yourself. Something to be proud o

I love him so much. Tomorrow uncle is inviting someone for his marriage. It hurts to even imagine him with someone else. Wish I could tell him, my love. Wish I could for once be selfish and tell him that it does not just his cure that's my concern it's him. Just him. The dairy ended when she went with him to the other city for his treatment. She must have forgotten the diary here. His trembling hands held the closed diary tightly. Tears blurred his vision realizing how much he has taken her for granted. She loved him, kept herself hurt, endured every pain for what. For him. For his happiness. For his sanity.

I am Sandra and I live in a small country in Europe with my smaller brother and my parents. Brought this Diary last week and I thought I should record my daily life here. So today is 23/9/2023 just another day during the winter holidays between the two semesters. That’s why I had a lot of time and I spent my days taking long baths, masturbating, reading and watching stuff on the internet. Every weekend I would get out with my friends to have fun but I was mostly at home which I was enjoying to its fullest.

It will be a long time before anything changes. There are a lot of other people who are more disabled than I am and in worse pain, which is truly appalling. Does it give them any consolation to open up a diary? Or, on the other hand, would they say they are adequately ready to keep everything in their spirits? — I used to want to read, but now I find that all books bore me. I can't check out anything, and more importantly, I hate myself. My spirit is furious. Again, Nina returned, to a lunch get-together this time. It was a horrible day with a heavy downpour. She told me of her connections—as a

The diary, a vessel of memories, became a bridge that connected the present to a past brimming with hope, love, and the indomitable spirit of a woman who had left an indelible mark on their hearts. The room was cloaked in a poignant silence as Larry continued to turn the pages of Sophia's diary. Margaret, Sandra, and Abigail sat huddled together, their eyes fixed on the weathered parchment that held the remnants of Sophia's dreams. The air seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken emotions, the collective sorrow of dreams left unfulfilled.