Whose handwriting is this? I rarely recognize it as mine. I think it looks very masculine, because it doesn’t care if you can read it later.

Eva is the worst human alive. It has to be deliberate, what she’s doing. I didn’t even want to hang out tonight but she made such a big deal over wanting to know how I was, and for some reason I thought it might be good, I could talk to her. I used to be able to talk to her. She used to be my friend.

Judith is going to be away for the entire month of August through Labor Day, and I don’t know how I’m going to deal with it, but I’m going to try to make a bunch of other appointments so I don’t lose momentum.

I can't really believe my life right now, which is probably a good thing. Jack and I are apart. I want to put that in quotes, but I should actually put it in truthful terms. Jack and I are over, at least, for this round.

How about for a change I lie on my bed and feel sorry for myself and cry. Why am I so chronically depressed.

Had the first appointment with the new shrink, Judith. Not sure how I feel about her. She seems kind of harsh, I don’t know.

I can’t live like this anymore.

I can’t believe how badly I miss Jack.

The only thing is just to get through it. I miss him so much. I thought I was in love with him. I thought this might be the one for good. Isn’t that stupid. I don’t think I felt that way about Paul.

I don't know why I feel so low, or rather I know only too well. But I really do fight it. To break it down is fighting it. I don't mean to drag you into my pit of doom. I do sometimes need a hand up from it.

At least I’ve stopped bursting into tears about it, at least I’m getting to feel more angry and righteous and strong and in charge of things. My stomach still hurts, and I still feel pretty dreadful, but I’m better, much more removed, and very grateful.