January 05, 2003 | 11:49 PM

I�ve been staring at my computer screen for hours, oblivious to the window directly behind it. I just looked out into the night and it�s snowing. Across the street Harvard Yard is blanketed in white.

I was surprised. And smiled. I think that�s the first time I�ve smiled in three days.

I think I�m starting to come out of this a little bit.

This morning when I woke up the pain in my chest was so unbelievable I seriously thought I was going to die of grief�for what even I�m not exactly sure, just this terrible loneliness. It was like my heart was being squeezed between icy fingers. I haven�t felt so panicked in a long time. Trying to think of something I wanted to get through the day for. And there was nothing I could draw out from the recesses of my neurosis to make me want to stay here in this world. All I could think of was wanting to transcend this body. To jump out of my skin. It was scary. It�s scarier now when this happens because I live alone. There isn�t any Jenn I can go out for drinks with on a moment�s notice.. No John to to wait up for and snuggle against in the dark night. It�s just me-- here alone, terrified of what I might do if I really can�t get myself out of these slumps.

And then, you know it abated a bit. And a bit more. I talked to my family on the phone. I drank some hot tea. I started another cleanse. The squeezed in feeling loosened up to a mild unpleasantness.

And now I feel� well, I feel OK. In relative terms anyway.

Here�s what�s important. Forgiveness. Compassion. Taking pleasure in the small things. Loving other people. Valuing friendships. Being honest with yourself. Setting goals (yeah I know�slap me silly and call me Susan Powter, but without goals life is wasteland.)

Now I am going to take a bath,

Goodnight you Princes of Maine. You Kings of New England.