mildly drunken post

I feel like I take up too much space, sometimes, like I have too many things, write in letters too large, everything expanding expanding expanding until all I want to do is shrink. To live without comparison, without parallels, alone in a bed where no one can tell me I am too large or that I am taking up too much space. That's how I sleep when I'm not alone--curled on my side, arms clutched in. I'm afraid to take up space.
I've been drunk for a week straight, staying up too late, mixing Jack and wine and gin. I don't know how to say anything, anymore. How to say No, or I'm going, or even better, Why. I'm angry, but I don't know who at. Or what.
Now, to bed.