Yeah, I'm back. A situation at work has me thinking scary thoughts again, but it's the nature of these thoughts that seem weird. I have been obsessed--fantasizing--about using a painful method, but not being alone. I always want pain, so that is nothing new. But I want someone there, who doesn't know me well, but who understands my suffering and has come to care. The interesting part is that I am obsessed not with the method or the dying, but what happens to my body afterward. When I wanted to be placed on the hillside with flowers, it was the same thing. I wanted to be lovingly cleaned up, and carefully laid out, tenderly. This time, I want to have my eyes carefully closed, be bathed in a lake, and maybe even have my cheek caressed. Then, I want my lifeless body sent to the bottom, with my hair reaching up to the surface as I disappear from the earth and from existence. I know that I wouldn't feel any of this and that I would not even be aware of it. But it's still very important to me for whatever reason, in my fantasy. I do hate my body and feel unlovable and undeserving of this kind of care, since I am fat and ugly. Somehow, if I suffered like this and died, maybe I would deserve a kind send-off. I see myself as more lovable in death than in life.