Father A_n said it was not possible to become any more "lovable" in the eyes of God.

It was hard not to cry.

Excerpt from a letter sent yesterday: "I think it is easier to feel God’s absence in a church, but to recognize something’s absence implies that it exists. I think it is a sort of loneliness. Maybe that’s not true. Loneliness is something shameful. It is a simple & childish statement, but I think it’s easier to miss God when you are in a church, the way you miss a friend."

Mood: Depressed and strangely lonely; self disgust. Suicidal.

Nothing-Vespers. Could not stop crying later.

Mood: Suicidal.

Mood: Suicidal.

Vashti-Wednesday means nothing to me anymore. I almost fell asleep sitting in church. (I hurt my back too much to stand. I could not focus on the service through my pain.)

Mood: Suicidal.

Christmas lighthouse.

Mood: Sardonic.

—

Horrific.

I could not bear to go to church today. I didn't think I could do it without crying.

Days without harming myself: 1.

God the Tormentor. God is creative.

Psalm 54:

My heart is troubled within me, and the terror of death is fallen upon me.
Fear and trembling are come upon me, and darkness hath covered me.
And I said: Who will give me wings like a dove? And I will fly, and be at rest.

Mood: Overwhelmed & guilt-ridden.

I almost cried sitting on the bus on the way to school today. What a child.

Mood: Overwhelmed

Saintgabrielsky. The good thing about reading the Bible is that mundane names are now meaningful: Gabriel, Michael, Mary, etc.

Father A_n emailed me to check on me.

Mood: Good, & that's my first time writing that in my calendar.

I bled through my pad. Sleepy but well rested. Good weather.

Mood: Quietcalm (As long as I don't think about things.)

Asked to stop talking about when I harmed myself & it was okay.

Got panicked talking on the phone & had trouble breathing. My face felt electric, like when I came off of my antidepressants/psychotics.

Mood: “You don't seem horrible”.

The priest: “And folks harm themselves in all sorts of ways- a gallon of ice cream, a pack of Camels. You just do it in a way that's more immediate and less socially acceptable. As to crying in the services, where else are you going to cry if you can't do it there?”

Angel bolo tie (turquoise) & angel bag (gift); “And Angel Toriel & Michael on your body so soon.” Angels everywhere.

“I will I think I will.”

Mood: “today sucked what a waste of a life”

I cried for the entire church service. I couldn't stop. People touched me with their hands.

Days without harming myself: 1.

Mood: Stented & meat tenderized.

Mood: I think I did a good job today.

Isn't it nice to think it yourself?

Yeah.

I emailed the therapist. I feel scared about it now. God help me.

Mood: “You seemed so miserable on the bus.”

Mood: Discouraged.

Winter party with the kids; last day being Miss Vashti for a while. I think I'm getting sick.

Mood: Disoriented(ly).

Lots of green tea; too tired for church tonight.

Mood: Sick & lightheaded & heart-beating.

Addendum: Too much caffeine, prayed for a while & could not sleep.

Resolution: Eat enough & get my health back; I want my old clothes to fit & I want to run again.

Resolution: No more punishment; no more self-flagellation.

I think God would like an empty church with just a priest performing Vespers to himself (& to Him). When I went today it was just me, another parishioner, and Father A_n. It was empty so I could see the icons well. Even though it was just us I stood in the back. I'll have to ask Father A_n what he does when no one shows up to the service, if he still does it. I'd be sad if he didn't. I wonder if it loses meaning in how routine it is.

Mood: Numb & suicidal.

The choir's Psalter smells just like a childhood book of mine.

Mood: Absolutely nothing.

Jesus Prayer, “Lord have mercy,” Our Father, etc. It calmed me down.

Weird stomach pains.

Mood: Numb, but able to move.

Losing track of my thoughts mid-prayer.

Mood: Angry.

I want to kill myself.

“How are you?” “Same as ever.” “Is that good or bad?”

A few people asked me to stay after church for lunch, but I left. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

I was told to read the Gospel of Luke first.

Mood: Same as ever. (Miserable.)

My Bible made my back more sore.

Mood: Almost feeling.

I had a dream about the song The Hidden River of My Life.

Cried without a sense of relief.

Mood: Deeply suicidal.

Fitful sleep & gagging.

Mood: Tired, overwhelmed.

Too busy for emotion or God.

Mood: Alright (?)

No more late nights after this. Respite. Email Father A_n tomorrow. My body has weird pains.

Mood: Too busy to feel; Alright (?)

Didn't go to Vespers tonight because I didn't want to see anyone. Thought about skipping church tomorrow because I don't want to see anyone, but I won't. I still haven't written Father A_n back.

Sudden tearfulness. Hiding from the world.

Mood: Acutely suicidal.

I kissed the cross today. Father A_n was right; it was good to talk to people after the service. I left feeling alright.

Mood: Desperate.

Mood: I was too tired to write. (Retroactive.)

In class today, for the upcoming holiday the children wrote an A-Z list of what they were thankful for. Many of them wrote God or Jesus. I wish I could have faith that simple & innocent; faith on a child's worksheet.

Mood: Nothing; self disgust; I don't know.

On break for 11 days.

Mood: Horribly depressed.

Mood: So depressed.

Mood: Hopeless.

Panicked while driving. Went to Vespers.

Mood: Depressed & obsessive.

Divine Liturgy. Prayed for each of my students. Was close to tears toward the beginning, thought about leaving but didn't. Wrote Father A_n about my obsessions/compulsions. (I don't know if it's the sort of thing I could manage to say out loud.)

Mood: A little better, but still sad.

I went to the doctor and tried very hard to convince the doctor that I am not suicidal & am actually a fully functional human being.

“Have you had thoughts about hurting yourself?” “I have never had thoughts of hurting myself.” “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

While all of my writing is completely useless, I can say that at least this calendar has a purpose now; I was able to tell the doctor when my last period was.

Mood: Pathetic.

Another suicide dream. It's becoming a common theme.

Driving alone at night, talking out loud to myself, because I could not bring myself to believe God was listening, my voice began to strain with emotion. Still, I wasn't able to let myself cry.

Mood: I wonder if there's even a point to writing this anymore. I've felt the same every day for a month. What a fun exercise.

I talked to my best friend & it made me feel better. I am going to try to find a therapist.

"To use prayer in the moment and not as a goal that will become a prison."

Mood: Despair.

Verbal debridement.

Mood: Complete despair.

Facing fears.

Mood: Clearheaded for the first time in a long time.

I decided to get a tattoo.

Mood: Low(er) (again).