10. No action to take today, but seriously planning it again. It doesn't seem like a single thing will convince me not to. I must write a few things before then, find ways to tidy my business, get my pet rabbits a good new home and make amends if I can. My ex sent me a letter, after I broke down in anger and drunken lashing out, detailing how dangerous I was, how they were scared of me, and how, blind as I was, I could not see it. I am, as they said, a malignant narcissist, and I see no hope for my future. My end is a service I shall give, to repay all the crimes I've committed that I couldn't understand. I am an alcoholic, I am a lonely, bitter, PTSD-ridden wretch of a man. I will hurt people, over and over, even when I try my hardest. I am disgusting. I have no future as an artist, nor as a writer, nor as a friend, nor as a lover. I am meant to hurt, and hurt again.