27th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 203
I relapsed.
I don't remember how, but I managed to come into contact with the damned skooma again and could not resist. I am mostly clean, but every now and then I get jittery from withdrawal. Illedia is a miracle worker. These past six years have been a blur. Struggles with skooma, depression, self-loathing. Shame is the king of them all, for it is all I feel nowadays.
A dragon attacked the cabin recently. Gods, the horror. I was so intoxicated from the wretched skooma that I could barely get out of the burning cabin. I was very, very lucky to have escaped with my life. Lucky for us, there has been an influx of builders-for-hire in the cities, helping with repairs from dragon attacks. If it were not for their help, we would have needed to find a new home.
I admit, it feels strange writing in my journal after so long. The last time I wrote was before Illedia gave birth to her beautiful baby girl, Itennu. She's the sweetest little thing, that one. She likes to play in the garden with the worms and torchbugs and little things. Arlian has grown into a very able-bodied boy. He's not the brightest, but he's a great help when we're harvesting crops or making repairs to the cabin.
Illedia, quite contrary to myself, has been thriving. She's told me many times she feels that she's recovered greatly from the emotional wounds her former husband has left. I can still see one or two scars on her arms and collarbone from when the bastard caught her with a knife, but the important part is that Illedia is happy. I've never seen her so at peace before.
Perhaps that is because of a certain someone she stops to chat with at Falkreath's tavern. There's a hunter named Valdr who sometimes drinks with her when she heads into town for supplies. She's admitted she finds him to be a strapping young lad. I've talked to him once or twice at the tavern and he seems like a fine gentleman, much better than her swine of a husband back in Bruma.
And to think, I've done nothing but waste coin on skooma. I swore to never get back on the stuff, and what happened? Exactly that. I feel much better physically now that I've mostly weaned off the skooma, but there are days I don't know what to do with myself. I often lay awake at night feeling bewildered and lonely, even though my three closest companions are nearby. Gods, I feel so terrible, and I probably will for the rest of my life.
Why can't I stop being such a waste?