Diary Entry of June 15, 1877
R. remained dissatisfied with the treatment and suspected the doctors had misjudged his condition. While copying Parsifal, the writer felt consumed by anxiety over his situation and saw worry as something that would only end with life itself.
Friday, June 15:
R. is dissatisfied with his cure and believes the doctors have made a mistake. I continue copying out Parsifal. R. is still oppressed by his situation. I am deeply worried about it, but how can one expect worry to end except with one’s life?