There's nothing I love more than my sister calling me up past midnight to see how I'm doing... While drunk. Not only do I feel unimportant but her advice or whatever you call it, is ******. She doesn't understand me. She rattles off some alanon catch phrase. I turn off. No one understands me except my T. No one understands this unless they have it. Not just the depression but also the bpd.

Interestingly she's the second person I've had to talk to today that was drunk off their ***. The first person was the president of my home group. I was early as usual and he approaches me and hands me the key to the church. "Here. This is yours now." He tells me he's been drinking but not using drugs... Give it time, I think. Told me he's too drunk to come to the meeting. I told him that it didn't matter. I've seen people falling over in their seats due to using drugs. He wouldn't hear it. So I let him drive off drunk. Nothing I could do really.

Anyway, all of this ******** doesn't help my depression. I'm hoping work will improve my mood tomorrow.