And so it continues

I wish I could be humorous, but I don't feel able to. I have been distraught all day. Yesterday we had a very convivial evening at the pub. I had a lot on my mind when I got there, and decided I wanted to get shitfaced. I drank five pints when I normally have no more than three. I can't remember all the evening, and that's never happened to me before. I woke up this morning feeling very, very sad. I have a vague recollection of having hurt my new brother, but I'm not sure. I've tried contacting him but have had no reply, so I fear the worst. Ain't I clever. I've shot myself in the foot again, and it's all my own fault. I have only myself to blame.  To think that I have hurt such a good person has rocked me to the core. I fuckingwell hate this aspergers lark. It's horrible.