I have that overwhelming desire to just not be feeling what I’m feeling right now. This feeling has no content. I’m not thinking anything. I’m not actually even thinking “I want to die.” But its the feeling I have had in the past that I usually associate with the thought “I want to die.”
It was triggered by a quasi-argument with my husband. He reacted to what was, indeed, my self-absorption–but it was a neutral self-absorption. When he gets angry as a result of it and expresses it I regress into a pile of gelatin. I am reminded of how deeply flawed I am. I am convinced of my worthlessness. I would want to die right now if I believed it was a way out, but I don’t anymore, so I just get stuck in a hell hole.
It will pass.