I feel better today. Not for any good reason.  Nothing has changed. I'm still in the exact same circumstances as yesterday.  My bi-polar mood switch flipped in the night. I actually smiled at people today. And I got my grades submitted on time. Yay, me.  

This has been the pattern for the last two years. Under the extreme duress of my dire circumstances, I'm taken to the very edge of the precipice of emotional pain. I beg God to kill me in my prayers, to spare me from living with myself. That goes on for a few days or weeks until I reach the point where I can no longer take it, when I feel myself begin to break. And then my brain switches back to normal. I'm very grateful this one only lasted 4 days. 

Whatever happens to me, is whatever.  I'm going to try to enjoy this time off to work on the book.

I'm not doing well. I hung in through the end of the semester and hoped and prayed for the best. I hoped that I would get summer classes or that my lawsuit would settle in time. Neither of those things have happened. There's no more unemployment. There's nothing.  I'm scared. 

I may have to move back to Florida to live with my parents. The shame of that makes me want to vomit.  I probably won't be able to ever move back to NYC if I leave.  And I certainly won't be able to find another rent controlled 2 bedroom apartment in a nice neighborhood that's 10 minutes from Times Square.   There is nothing for me in Florida. There are exponentially more jobs here. Ditto with the men. I have friends and a life here. And I have the dignity of living in my own apartment.    

The problem is that I was an achiever. All my self-esteem was based on my achievement. I went to a nerdy magnet school. I got a scholarship to go to an exclusive liberal arts college. I got a fellowship to get an M.A. in an extremely difficult field. And then I got into one of the Top 25 PhD programs in my field. And then I went mad and dropped out. It's been 5 years and I've done nothing but flail about and hang on by my fingernails to my sad existence.  That I've become this loser who can't even support myself is almost unbearable.  Add to that the fact that I can't find someone who wants to love me and marry me and the self-loathing grows. 

It makes me hate myself with a violent loathing.  So it's harder to fight for myself.  I'm in this weird vortex where I know I desperately need to do something to fix my life while at the same time I feel that I don't deserve any better and there is no point in trying.  I don't understand how or why I could have let this happen.  I worked so hard in my 20s to have an academic career.  I made a lot of sacrifices.  But I believed in myself.  I loved what I was doing.  And I wore myself out. Then it all went to hell in 04/05.       


I've been crying for 4 days.  The bishop called me last night to check in. I told him how I am doing. That I feel like I'm just waiting for death. He sent my home teacher's over to give me a blessing.  Bless their hearts but they are both young, so it was a short prayer. It didn't even make me cry. Which is surprising considering the free flow of tears this weekend.

I also know I'm responsible.  I haven't been going to church this spring. The last few times I went it made me feel horrible. So I haven't wanted to put myself through the hassle only to come home in tears. I've been feeling resentful toward the church, which is bad.  I've let Satan in and given him a strong hold on my heart.  That is not going to serve me well, especially with my temporal predicament. I don't deserve the miracle that I need from the Lord.  Which is why my faith is so low, which is why I feel so hopeless, which is why I am so disgusted with myself, which is why I can't find the motivation to pull myself out of this, which is why I'm not bothering to go to church, which makes me feel undeserving . . .  and down the vortex I go . . . I don't think I have to strength to fight it this time.  I need some glimmer of hope and I can't find it.