Here is a draft I wrote on June 1, but never published for obvious reasons. Kind of explains the kind of interactions I've had with J. that probably caused him to get sick of me:
I'm still going. I kicked J. out. I'm going crazy. I'm a total mess. I don't know what to do. I told him to leave but I really really wanted him to stay. I have no relief, no help, no medical care. I'm too afraid to go to the hospital because I won't be able to work. I have work in 5 hours. I have a lot of anxiety about not getting enough sleep. I don't know what to do, and I have nowhere but this blog to turn. I tried to leave, wanted to kill myself, just wanted the pain to stop. J. had to stop me. Then I told him if he left, I wouldn't harm myself. But I realy just wanted him to stay and us to live happily ever after. But I feel like that's being taken away from me because of my mental illness. I've given up and I need serious medical help but I had to miss my appt. due to Memorial Day.
I know that I am going to alienate anyone who is reading this, but J. has already left me for the evening and I feel like knives are stabbing me in the heart, the pain is so bad.
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