I have it. Going on day 3 or 4. I wonder if I will die from it. A part of me hopes I do. A big part of me hopes I do. I wish I wasn’t lonely. I wish I was worthy, successful, and could meet someone to spend the rest of my life with. I am tired of crying. I have so much anger inside me. I wish I had the energy to write to my kids and my mom. The only people who mean the world to me. I have a few friends I care about, but none I talk to everyday. I would tell me sister and brother in law to make sure my youngest son’s dad doesn’t try to take advantage of my mom (I know he will). I hate him. I won’t miss him when I die. I don’t know if it’s right that I feel that way, but I do. I wish I could find my spirituality, but I don’t think I have the energy.