When the voices were at their worst while I was at STanford the first time this year, I just kept envisioning that bottle of morphine--rationalizing if I did that, and stopped thinking about hanging like how the voices were talking--then I would survive my hospitalization--

And if the voices didn't go away, I would have one of the best ways in the world to kill myself with--morphine OD when I got home.

A couple of days ago, the auditory hallucinations were really bad. Sometimes, I want to die. Everywhere, I look for ways to do it. Walking in front of traffic. Jumping off of a bridge.

I re-play the voicemail message of MOrpheus so I can hear his voice. I have no idea when he'll call again.