Prescod

It's day eighty-three without a drink. Seven days until three months. I am.. happy I have made it this far but the cravings have become intense. I am grateful to be out in the country, too far away from anything and anyone else to walk in search of a drink. But the last three days have been more difficult than the first week I stopped.

Cestella is distant again. She is out of bed before I am awake. She pours herself into her work. She eats dinner with me but then she is back to working again until, presumably, she cannot keep her eyes open any longer. I am in bed before her. Even when we sleep I can feel how tense she is. I have been giving her her space; I work outside all day so I am not in her way. I've been making dinner each night for the same reason. It's probably driving Dauphine mad. But she got to cook tonight.

I didn't want to weigh Cestella down with more concerns but I have been moving slow today and just wanting to sleep. I slept for a few hours in the afternoon. I fell asleep in the tub. Even now I struggle to keep my eyes open. Cestella came to check on me. I told her how bad the cravings had been, how awful that whole night has left me feeling. She sat with me when I asked and then brought me a plate of dinner. I don't think I can eat it. I just want to sleep more. Sleep will mean I'm not thinking about the cravings, and maybe when I wake up I won't be thinking about them anymore.