Believe me, it wasn't lack of guts that prevented me from doing it. The one and only thing that stopped me from hurling myself in front of a train, truck, or bridge, was Catherine. Though I only saw her once during that period (at the beginning of March her mom brought her out to see me for an afternoon; it was the only time she'd ever driven Cathy to my house since the divorce; the only reason she did was to collect $153 for Girl Scout Cookies I'd ordered for my coworkers) and phone conversations became rare, the thought having Catherine live without her daddy was too much to bear.

I cannot state this clearly enough: My daughter saved my life this spring.

The week vacation we had together this June helped drive the suicidal thoughts away, and writing here has been (as you well know if you've read the entire journal through this point) a sort of therapy for me.

For four-and-a-half months I was a zombie. I walked to work, I graciously accepted rides home. I slept on the floor of my living room. I ate and slept very little. I didn't care about anything. Everything precious to me was taken away... love, family, career... everything.

Without the income from teaching, I paid my rent, bought some groceries, and to keep from bouncing checks continued paying interest to the payday loan shark places. Soon I was borrowing more from one to pay off another. The interest on the loans became so much that I couldn't pay my phone or utility bills. Every dime I had was spent on the loans until I had no dimes left.

In June, I just quit paying them. They had each received thousands of dollars on loans that amounted to only a few hundred dollars. I had nothing left. In June my phone was shut off for non-payment. A week later my utilities were turned off for the same reason. My rent was late for July and August, and is now also late for September.

After taxes and child support, I net approximately $600 a month to cover my rent, bills, groceries, and expenses. Making ends meet was (and is) pretty tough.

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