My e-mail to you last night read as follows:
“The desire in me to end my life has gotten very strong over the past few hours. I am very disturbed about losing L. Nothing in particular happened. I’m not even depressed. But I’m getting sadder and sadder about my situation.”
I wrote this to you because I wanted to tell you how I felt. I wanted to describe my feelings accurately to you. I thought it was important that you know these things. I had no clue how you would react. I just wanted you to know because you are my therapist and I trusted you with this information.
It says in my contract, which I signed, that I am supposed to be honest with my treatment team, so I am being honest with my treatment team.
Immediately after I sent the e-mail to you, I received a bit of encouraging news, which made me feel a little better. I still had this strong desire within me, though, but the feelings and thoughts were more bearable. I was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue, and went to bed.
The next morning, I focused on getting to my appointment for my weight check on time. The appointment was for 8:30. I made it there early. I went directly to the library to work on revising my novel about an anorexic woman who loses everything and then commits suicide. While revising, I found two sections that I really like, because finally, I had found the character’s voice. Then you called me.
I called S, one of the few friends I’ve got left who will even talk to me at this point. I was very upset about this police situation. I couldn’t concentrate on my novel anymore because I was so upset, so I came home. I was feeling very low.
It wasn’t until I was walking home from the library that I realized that it was a bad decision to end the It Notebook. I decided that the Notebook should continue. I decided that my decision to end the Notebook was probably what had caused all this. This was a breakthrough for me.
When I came home, the police arrived. I guess you know the rest.