A couple of days ago, I called the police station, trying to find out how sis and bro-in-law got my keys to enter my home without permission, remove several objects, including a private journal. The journal was used against me in the psych ward. Anyway, last night, the officer who took me into custody, called. Surprisingly (at least from a man I expected to shoot me), we had a good conversation. In the ambulance, he had said to call him if things got bad again. I asked him during the call if he was sincere then, and he said he was, as long as he was on duty, he could probably come by or at least call. I thought that was pretty cool. But, today early, and then later doing errands, I was an emotional mess, screaming in the car, crying, asking God to send Alesia to come and get me, I'm really at the same place I was a few days before the attempt. I still feel like there's nothing left for me here. Hospital therapists and my counselor all suggested getting active, find a hobby I could find interest in - I've been getting those same suggestions for over a year. There is nothing now that I find fascinating, or even gets my interest. Music, poetry, literature, movies, philosophical talks with my wife, Fall was our favorite time of year, and though I could notice the foliage changing, there was no sense of majesty and grandeur. I'm afraid everything that used to be wonderful, is now washed out and faded, there is no vibrancy, the kind that makes you breathe deeply and savor the sights and sounds and smells of this season.