Suicidal.

I texted a friend, who came over and sat with me all night long.  She is an extraordinary person — able to hear how I’m really feeling without judging or blotting me out with her discomfort.

I’m not afraid of dying… I’m afraid of dying badly (long, painful), of hurting others (seeing if there is any way to make it an “accidental” death), of not being found in a reasonable time.

Anyway I am going to call my shrink tomorrow.  He always says “call me if you have any problems” and this will be the first time I have. What good can calling him do, I wonder?  Guess I will find out…

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