1. NOVEMBER 2001 AD - ALL SAINTS

Today I got up in the morning (around 7.30am) as Dad came to wake me up and we went to pray and light candles at my Grandparents' grave. By the time we were at the cemetery, it was raining very hard and we were partly soaked because it was shining from the side along with the wind. I missed Grandpa uniting us as a Family over Grandma's grave. I also thought that I loved him more than Grandma, because he took care of us (my sister and me ) more and had more patience, but maybe Grandma was already ailing. Anyway, I missed the presence of relatives and having a meal together at Grandparents' flat.

At eleven o'clock we went to Mass and even in church I had suicidal thoughts. I contemplated going to confession, but did not have the courage. I concluded that I would confess either to the hospital chaplain or to some priest who knew me and preferably in a more private setting than in church during Mass. I regretted having such thoughts and apologised to God for it. I reminisced about a time when my faith was great and I went to confession without a problem and joyfully to Holy Communion. But today I am the "rotten Catholic", as Hemingway wrote, and my ideals have crumpled. My heart is full of doubts. And contact with peers only reinforces and magnifies them. Again, I am reminded of an American woman's statement that Catholicism is not the religion for me. However, through constant contact with my Parents, I also have contact with this religion. And I am not indifferent to this contact. After all, I was brought up in the spirit of this religion. It was only the clash with Nikitta and her group in college that shook my faith - unfortunately - for good. But, if it hadn't been for that shake-up, I probably wouldn't have had any sexual relations to this day. Or would I already be a husband and father? I don't know.

The fact is that I am 29 years old and a bachelor. I don't have a girlfriend, a fiancée or a candidate for a wife. This also depresses me and keeps me depressed and in this state. I have no one to live for. Although I should be a support for my Parents in their old age and , just in case, for my Sister. It's just that my life is so sad - so lonely and sad. There is no joie de vivre in it, especially sexually. The problems pile up and I can't solve them. I can only write about them. Most of the people who were supposed to help me are unable to do so. Today I am waiting for a miracle - for an epiphany - maybe in the form of a KESRIETY that would restore my will to live. I don't know how much longer I can last in this depression. It is also exhausting. Not like mania or psychosis, because one doesn't burn out, but one slowly wilts or withers - also from lack of feeling. And here my father is talking about the injection again - and how am I supposed to enjoy life? Admittedly, when I looked in the mirror in the restaurant, I found that it would be a shame to kill that handsome face. But it's hard for a person , when there's no one to hug and no one to talk to. Even more so when one's psyche is weakened by failures and medication. My sister, for example, thinks that I will never be healthy again. And I still hope that someday I will, that I will see meaning in my studies and work again , that I will be among people I like and admire, that I will experience love, especially erotic love, with reciprocity. And that I won't have to take medication, or one that doesn't impair my drive, concentration or memory.

It's already a November night outside the window - a night of depression for me. I seem to have caught up with the autumn/winter depression in the midst of the post-neuroleptic depression. I hope to survive both .YES GOD HELP ME!!!
17.33 - UNTIL NEXT TIME! Maybe by now I can crawl out of the funnel or at least get close to the edge of it to see more light.