It's like there are two of me.

Last night a suicidal thought passed through my head, the first in some years. Surprised more than anything else, I closed my book and sat back inside my head to think this over.

Now one half of me is cooly planning to fill the bathtub and get a knife from the kitchen to slit wrists with, weighing the messy aspects of this gainst the possible evils of taking pills - if I'm discovered and saved, I could have liver damage, or brain damage, which would be far worse than scars - while the other me is thinking that obviously thoughts of discovery are symptomatic of an incomplete commitment to despair.

Therefore something can still be done. While one of me is considering which blade would be least painful and whether to wear clothes into the tub or not, the other one is analysing the situation in therapeutic terms. It's not a sunny day, I have no chocolate... What can we do here to give ourselves a small respite from this sort of thinking, enough to pick up the phone to ask for help?

One of me has just turned the music off - we don't need distractions at this time, thankyouverymuch. The other of me is calmly running through a list of friends in our head, trying to think who best to call.

The third of me is writing the other two up.