Trapped in a Box

The person I was ten months ago is trapped in a box.

My old self wants to be free but I won’t let her out. The old me was a woman who drunk herself to death in order to feel numb. She didn’t want to be aware of her surroundings or feelings. Drinking heavily made her not want to face her own demons. The old self was more “happier” when she was free but, deep down inside she was slowly dying because of the careless stuff she did. She reminds me of how happier I was & it would be best to her her loose but I can’t. If I do…well, it wouldn’t be a good thing. I didn’t like myself when I was her & I don’t want to go back to that dark place.