I just did something many people would consider very smart. IT...is unloaded. i am not sure what I am feeling right now. After once or twice through EMDR therapy i have been pretty much free from suicidal ideation (SI).....not to mention the 5+ years before this of CBT. but I can't help but sleep with IT. shower with IT near me. carry IT by me at all times. to say i am scared that my SI is still there is an understatement. but my attachment to IT seems to prove that my SI lurks in the shadows of my mind. I went out today. I geocached and while the hunt for caches lasted I was not thinking of anything but finding a geocache and how much I will miss my significant other when I move for grad school. although i am pretty sure the attachment we both share is superficial at best, as we have only been seeing eachother for 2 months now, the stress of leaving is still there. I am not sure why I am down right now. compared to my normal routine my genuine sleep schedule from last night (7-8 hrs) compared to 20+ hrs, my going out, my enjoying possibly the most wonderful london fog in my life and watching a movie that was extremely intellectually stimulating...I should be very chipper. I can't help but replace all that I have just done and experienced with emptiness. the taste of the tea has long left my mouth, the thrill of my next cache died as i opened my car door to go home and my intellectual stimulation from the movie and the philosophy of egalitarianism has been replaced by a dull urge to sleep. (which I will correct here shortly with a pot of coffee...yes...a whole pot) I am finding out slowly but surely that my will to live and my own self pity are not tied to motivation. that they share no proportional or disproportional correlation. that I am just as unmotivated now as I was when I first became friends with IT. that my innate hatred for my own waking mind and body has had its mouth sewn shut but the beast lives on. I am finding out I am still a prisoner. it is dubious to say that I am lying when I say that I believe I have purpose. I consider the value of my life to be marginal, far better than the negative equity I bestowed upon it before, that I am meant to love and be loved in as much capacity as I will allow. but something feels wrong about all of this. something fights me...still.