Emotionally, the last few days have been devastating. Many things have gone wrong; it does not really matter what happened because the problem is not what happened–the problem is my depression.
With poetic timing, a few days ago, I wrote, I rarely think about suicide.
But I have thought about it a lot for the last few days. Tonight, I felt something that I do not think I have felt before. I was walking on the sidewalk, and an armored truck was driving twice as fast as the other cars, weaving around them. It came into the slow lane, next to the sidewalk, and just after it passed, I imagined jumping in front of it.
I do not like this feeling.
I have not purchased modafinil because I do not have much money. But I am not getting better, so tomorrow, I am going to try to make it to the pharmacy to buy it. I can only afford 14 pills, and then I think I will have enough money for . . . fuck, I don’t know how much money I will have left. I am incomprehensibly lonely and drowning in sadness.
