I'm teaching a couple college courses this semester (it's an hour away), so that has been on my mind wearing me down mentally. Teaching is one of the things I do well at. I want to make it though without flipping out or hurting my teaching reputation (which is good). I do so few things well, and I like doing that as a career so it's been a gift to me this semester. I am not ready to teach yet. I've been so busy with doing Simon's chores, working on his house, dealing with renters, sorting and paying his bills, and cleaning the house. It feels like I have a job and a half. I need to be better to myself.

I went to see Dallas Monday, and he is in there smoking himself to death, not sleeping, nor taking his medication. He doesn't understand that he is so much better off taking the fucking Lithium. I don't like it either, but it helps me. I understand he wants a manic phase, but he's in super-depressed phase.

I too am depressed, and I just cannot tell anyone. I wish someone could see through my shit and know. It would be quite intimite. Sometimes I wish to be harmed or hurt by someone. Why do I wish for these things--strangulation, being bound, and for hate. I think I'm a complete and udder kook. If my doctor knew of these thoughts, I wonder what medicine he would try to save me with.

SVU is on. It's a rerun. I'll study so I can go to my art class. I miss a few of those folks. I don't feel like it's a good week if I've not seen them.