Well, at six-thirty this morning, I went to the gym with my mother for my twice weekly weight lifting routine. When we were done, my mother asked what I was going to do for the rest of the day. I said that I wanted to stop by my sister’s and watch the birds and the squirrels. I don’t like working out. It’s one of the chores I do because I have to and I almost always finish in a worse mood than I start. Since I had already started the day crying… I told her that I just needed some peace and relaxation. She asked if she could accompany me. That seemed harmless enough. She said she wanted to sit inside and make some phone calls to her friends. While we were on our way over, I mentioned how a former boyfriend of mine who suffered from depression was always telling me that it was important to get in some pleasures and enjoyment. All the being good and dieting and going to the gym and wearing a hair shirt won’t do any good if you don’t get some enjoyable things in. She said, “You seem to like quiet things.” I said, “Yes, I do.” “So, you wouldn’t like, let’s say, whitewater rafting?” she asked for no reason I could discern. She has a phobia of water, so it wasn’t an invitation.

We arrived at my sister’s house and she started making phone calls. I sat outside with a bag of nuts, but didn’t see any squirrels. After a while, I decided that I might as well garden. I got out the bucket I use when I’m weeding. I didn’t see my gloves with the other gardening supplies. I went into the house to see if I could find them there. My mother said, “Don’t call your sister.” “Good idea,” I said, “Let’s text her.” Then my mother started to cry. “Last night, your sister phoned me and said, ‘I’m fucked.’ I think your sister is going to lose her job!”

My mother started explaining the situation to me but I couldn’t follow because the chest pains started getting worse.

Well, I packed my things back up and drove my mother home. So much for my attempt to have a pleasant day. Is that selfish for me to think that?

I don’t know if I should go out and try to do something else enjoyable or finally take that Ativan.

I just want to go someplace far, far away and fall asleep and never wake up.

Update: My sister is having some difficulty at work, but she says her job is very stable and my mother is exaggerating.

but you know you wouldn’t get it. I just want someone to hold me and let me cry on his shoulder. Unfortunately, there isn’t any therapy like that. I wrote that in a comment the other day and everyone made fun of me. I keep playing the mockery over and over and over again, Jon Zande, Remigius, Ron. These are exactly the sort of people I want to flee. I’d be angry with them, but I just don’t have the emotional energy for that feeling right now. I woke up crying this morning. This is the fourth day that I’ve been crying more or less non-stop.

Am I such a freak to want somebody to hold me? But science says that this is a normal need.

While studying wild baboons in Kenya, I once stumbled upon an infant baboon huddled in the corner of a cage at the local research station. A colleague had rescued him after his mother was strangled by a poacher’s snare. Although he was kept in a warm, dry spot and fed milk from an eyedropper, within a few hours his eyes had glazed over; he was cold to the touch and seemed barely alive. We concluded he was beyond help. Reluctant to let him die alone, I took his tiny body to bed with me. A few hours later I was awakened by a bright-eyed infant bouncing on my stomach. My colleague pronounced a miracle. ”No,” Harry Harlow would have said, ”he just needed a little contact comfort.”

I know that until I get some real contact with another person or other people, everything else I do is just propping me up so I can take another fall. When you get to a certainly level of patheticness, your patheticness itself drives people away. It’s like a viscous circle. I can’t see an end to it anymore.

There was another atheist blogger who used to like me when I was funny and sexy and invited me to visit. That invitation’s been rescinded since I’ve shown myself to be a tad more fucked up than he though. The ironic thing is, I’m pretty sure that I would seem less fucked up in person. Last night, I went out to dinner with my sister and my mother. I didn’t drink since I’d been feeling blue and that’s not and advisable combination. Other than that, you wouldn’t have noticed anything major wrong with me. I made chit chat, jokes. Then I went home and went to bed and cried.

This morning I had already had a bout of crying when I got an email that made me feel worse. It was from one of the few people who still contact me. I feel like I’m coming to the end of the line.

I’ve started having chest pains. I’ve been having chest pains continuously for about three days now. Yesterday, I nearly asked a policeman to call an ambulance. But I hat ambulances. They’re always just such a fuss. I just want a doctor who will listen. I woke up this morning and felt chest pains when I got out of bed.

Then I read an email and my chest pains got worse. I guess if the chest pains get worse when I read an email, it’s anxiety and not a physical condition.

I’m really seriously, seriously, thinking of suicide. I don’t have a plan yet, which is why I’m still on the outside walking around. However, that’s only because I’m terribly afraid of a botched suicide. When I’ve made up my mind, I’m going to do some research and will do something which will work.