I've never posted here before. I had weird moment today and I think I need to talk about it. While I was chopping potatoes for tonight's dinner, I got the sudden urge to cut myself with the butcher knife I was using. It wasn't a rational thing. I wasn't thinking about anything. I just wanted to cut my wrist. I've never had the urge to hurt myself before. I wasn't frightened--and that bothers me A LOT. I should be worried, right? We live in a 10th story apartment. I spend time every day out on the veranda watching the ships go by. It is a long enough drop with pavement below. No matter how beautiful the view is from the veranda, whenever I go out there I think about dying. I wish there was some kind of barometer to help me figure out how serious this is. I've been in depressions before and from what I remember, they were way worse than what I'm going through now. I remember feeling like I'm being buried alive or like I was a hollow shell and when people would talk to me, their words would shoot right through me like flaming arrows. But no matter how miserable I was back then, I never seriously thought about suicide. But right now I'm not really hurting or distressed. I just feel disconnected and distant from everything. The thought just keeps occurring to me: I could kill myself. I could die. I could be dead. I recognize that I need help. I really want help. But I also don't want anyone around me to know what I'm feeling. The idea of people feeling sorry for me embarrasses and annoys me. I think I might feel better if I cried, but I'm not even sure how to be sad right now.