Trying to get to the core of these feelings. I thought today that maybe it was work, the idea of work, that was getting oppressive, but I don't think so. I think work exacerbates the underlying feelings, so it's easy to think they're the cause.

Isolation is a big part of it, along with the increased unbearableness of meaningless daily routine, doing the same things day in and day out.

And then the inevitable consequence of years of heavy drinking, with more and more symptoms of something seriously going wrong cropping up.

The more I think I'm going to die soon from the natural consequence of alcoholism makes me realize that I have something I want to say from suicide.

I don't want to die a medical death, with the message that I was suicidal being lost. I don't want people mistaking my death as an unfortunate accident, a mere matter of consequence, when it was really my intentional decision; what I wanted.

I want people who know me to know that I chose this; that I specifically wanted them to feel or react to my decision. And not as a revenge thing or consequence thing, but just that these things happen. That we have to care for the people around us.

I think my family, who are in denial about my alcoholism – they've indicated they're aware of the signs – think they care for me, but they don't even know what that means because they don't even know me, they don't have a clue, they're not even trying, they don't know how, and how do you care for someone you don't even know?

Ritu's suicide taught me that lesson. Compassion eluded me when she was spiraling downward, and I should have cared for the people around me.

I hope I've practiced that more since Ritu died, but the message has to keep on going. Or not. Whatever. There's no way to control other people's reaction to suicide. You can't expect them to get a message. I just need to focus on what I feel and reconcile it with what I want to do.