I seem to have noticed it’s October. I think I might have noticed before, but I was trying to proceed with the next step of my life. October is hard. It is the hardest month of all.

And mostly I want to kill myself. The last two nights, our school held a culture show. It was mostly dance—some of it traditional, some modern Country X, a few numbers Western-style. There were something like 35 or 40 routines. C danced in maybe 8 of them, about four on each night. I wanted to see her. I have to go anyway, but I wanted to watch and to see what the students had managed to accomplish. I did. On the first night, I really wanted to just enjoy it and I put everything else aside and I did. I was able to do that. I am usually fighting to stay integrated and stay connected to my feelings, but that night I chose not to. The second night, I couldn’t. The feelings were too strong and I didn’t have the energy maybe to keep them boxed up. So it was a very different experience. I didn’t really talk to anyone. I didn’t connect as much even to students. But I lived through it.

That was Saturday night. Then Sunday, I could relax some, but I am trying to let it out in small doses, because actually it makes me intensely suicidal and I just cannot take it for that long. The result is that things just feel unreal. My whole life feels unreal. The present feel unreal. It feels unreal that I teach, that I talk to the people that I do, that I am in Country X. The past feels unreal too. Old memories I know happened feel unreal. New memories that I am not very sure about feel unreal. That’s the trade-off. If I feel less pain, it’s because I have made it all unreal to myself and it is disorienting.

I don’t know what to say about the place I’m in. Just I have to get through the month.