
...I take baths almost nightly - I get so cold here in the Pacific Northwest. Hot, hot baths, remind me of being back in the womb. There I feel at peace, safe - safe to cry, safe to break down. I'm trying not to think bad thoughts, but invariably they come out. I make the mistake of not taking my pills just two days in a row, as they affect my libido. Unfortunately, by day 1 1/2 Damon is so sick of me that he goes to bed early to avoid any sexual contact. No surprise. I retire to the bathroom in tears, only to catch the reflection of the razor blade in the water. I feel like.. if I don't get help soon, I will be dead within a year or two. I told Damon as much last night - and he told me to stop feeling sorry for myself. Um. Is it just me, or does he completely lack compassion? Don't get me wrong, I am an intelligent woman... I could figure out how to help myself, but in this state I am feeling a need for support. Lots of it. You would think the person I am supposed to marry would be the one to give it. Apparently not.
How I would do it... in the bath tub. I could just take all those pills and fall asleep - warm, embraced, finally at peace.