I felt the barb in my mind again. Every time I thought about "the wrong things" there would be a pain behind my eyes, just enough to interrupt my thoughts of self-hate and feelings of worthlessness. It's terribly hard to think of killing yourself when you're reminded that you wouldn't like the pain of killing yourself anyway. It reminded me that that I didn't want to disappear, I just wanted the pain to stop. No, not the pain He was causing, but the other pain. The depression.

I'm afraid. We're no where safe to support ourselves, much less a child. And I'm getting hot flashes. Real. Literal. Hot Flashes. At 22. It's a sign of hormonal changes. I'm not going through fucking menopause, you know? Unless depression can cause hot flashes, it's pretty definite in my mind that if I don't start bleeding in the next week, I'm expecting. No. I'm carrying. May as well define it like it is. Like a dangerous weapon. I'm carrying. I'm packing heat. It's something that could change our situation drastically for the worse. I don't know if either of us could handle news like that right now. We're both depressed. He's seeking help, I'm just doing what I always do.... Sucking it up, hiding it, and "doing things". I studied depression a lot when I was a kid, because it's what my mother always said was wrong with her. I tried to cheer her up, and help her "do things" -it's what releases endorphins, you know. Even making a sandwich can make you happy, as long as you feel a sense of accomplishment when you look back at the sandwich and say "look how far I've come. Before, you were just a few slices of bread and some balogna and mustard... and now, you are fit for human consumption!"

I'm going to go look up whether hot flashes can be caused by the changing hormone levels of depression now.

I feel a little pathetic that I'm hoping for depression.