A Series of Confessions, Part 3

Even though I am under the care of both a psychiatrist and a psychologist, and my meds and progress is monitored, rarely a day hours by that I don't look at the big support beam in my living room and visualize hanging myself from it. I should be, under normal circumstances, rather satisfied with my life but the money problems, ridiculous amounts of job stress, years of unsuccessful job search attempts, and internal conflicts cloud my judgement. I still can't figure out how to tie a noose no matter how many online directions I've read, nor do I own a belt long enough to fit the beam and my neck. The only reason I've started attending church is to try to discover a reason not to examine those noose diagrams even harder.

A Series of Confessions, Part 2

I have finally found "the one." Problem is, he's 14 years younger than me. We're both okay with it, as is his parents and mine. I know he's not ready for marriage and we've talked about it quite a bit. When I'm not with him and alone, I put on a cheap clear glass and pot metal solitaire ring I bought from Claire's and pretend it's an engagement ring from him.
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A Series of Confessions, Part 1

I used to be a terrible person. If a married man hit on me, I'd agree to date him just to see if I could break up his marriage. When I did, I told him I didn't want to see him anymore.