i found a literate male at the partial hospitalization program. it really took me by surprise. not that he was literate but that we could have a conversation about tolstoy and walt whitman. it was lovely and it was the best conversation, by far, i’ve had with anybody there. we didn’t have to go over our pasts or our awful future. he’s on clozaril. i shuddered because i remember the few days on that medication. i was basically a zombie, my skin had turned waxy, i could barely think.

well, i’ve basically been really busy going to partial hospitalization. i’m still reading the devil wears prada but i’ve not had the energy to really read anything of worth. i still have loads of book waiting for me to pick them up.

i found the cds i bought about six months ago. pretty nice. i thought they were gone forever and i realize that now i get to listen to more of some newer (to me) artists.

i go to partial five days a week about five hours a day. i get there at ten, leave in the afternoon. group session after group session. one of the groups moved me. somebody said that suicide doesn’t affect only one person. i’ve heard that before but it never made an impression on me. i thought of a girl i used to know in high school. we didn’t really like each other much. i remember i heard that she started crying when told about my suicide attempt. more so than my family or friends the idea of some random girl i thought disliked me crying about it really makes me realize it’s not as simple as i thought. i still believe suicide is a right but i no longer think it’s the best option for me personally. still, as i left i felt the impulse to kill myself. not the will, though.

fucking bitch. i just found out my mother is cheating on my dad. no wonder she was so hot to send me to partial hospitalization five days a week. probably makes life easier now that i’m ‘well’ and out of the way. it just makes me want to smash something, hurt myself. not because of my dad, because of my mother. it would be her fucking fault, not his. she couldn’t blame it on him this time. i think they should divorce but going with some married former jailbird while they’re still married? what the fuck does my family need that shit for? cut, cut, cut. you fucking bitch, i want to do something manipulative and hurtful. wouldn’t it feel good?