Sunday, 8 May 1881

I am now almost glad to see my health breaking down in consequence of the happinesses heaven does not send me. And when I am entirely done for, perhaps everything will change — and then it will be too late.
Everyone for themselves, it is true — and yet my family professes to love me so much, and does nothing... I no longer know anything myself; there is a veil between me and the rest of the earth. If one only knew what is there, beyond — but one does not know; and in any case it is this curiosity that will make death less dreadful for me. Is that a life!! — ask anyone! I have lost my mind, my gaiety, my energy; when twice a [word blacked out: month] I go out and see three people, I am stunned and afraid — I dread annoyances, vexing things, hard things, sad things.
I cry ten times a day that I want to die — but it is a form of despair; [words blacked out: it does not disturb] my family, my despair — I never say anything to them and see them at table. One says, I want to die, and it is not true; it is a way of saying that life is horrible, but one wants to live always and in spite of everything — especially at my age.
But do not be moved to pity — I still have some time left. No one can be blamed. It is God who wills this. If He had wished it, He could have rescued me from my hell by a marriage, by some chance — it seems that happens to people.