**REGISTER TO VOTE ONLINE!** **SIGN DARFUR ACTION PETITION HERE!!**

---

Ive been very depressed lately. I have an OB appointment Monday afternoon and am taking a list with me, the depression is already on the list. My pregnancy book tells me it'll only get worse and if that's the case then it's gonna be REALLY bad. It's a mixture of problems with Greg, the weight gain, and having no income.

When in a depressive swing I can't think clearly. It's hard to describe but it's very frustrating not being able to form thoughts into coherent sentences. It reminds me of times in France when I couldn't figure out how to say what I wanted to say and hand gestures and "franglais" weren't cutting it. When having trouble getting across what I'm thinking, it's almost impossible to get across how I'm feeling. Until I blow up.... I stay easy going because it isn't worth it to argue with people (Greg and my mom) or to defend myself (aunt sharon, others) so I think people just assume I dont have a problem with them. And then it builds up over time and I end up flipping out. The weekend before the baby shower Greg went on a drinking binge from 6pm Friday to 4 am Sunday. He didnt eat or sleep the entire time. That Saturday morning around 6am I was trying to coax him into the car. He had taken off from the house two hours earlier and I found him knocking on random doors in the trailor park where his sister lives. He left the trailor park and was walking on the sidewalk along the opposite side of the street as I had to stay on so that I couldnt talk to him anymore. I crossed the street and went up someone's driveway and was driving the car over the sidewalk, over people's front lawns. I dont know what caused me to snap, other than just reaching some line in the sand... I revved the engine and floored into him. Luckily for both of us he fell backwards onto the hood of the car and rolled off the side onto somebody's lawn. If he would have fallen foreword I would have ended up running over him. He stormed off downtown and sat outside of his lawyer's office saying he was gonna sue me (though he wasnt hurt). It was 6:30 am on a Saturday, this I reminded him, and his lawyer wouldnt be in until sometime Monday. He staggered across the street and used a pay phone to call home and tell his dad he wanted to move back in with them and that his dad needed to come up here with the truck to get his stuff. I'm pretty sure his dad called him a jackass or something like that and told him to rent his own U-haul and get himself down there. Greg was obviously very drunk on the phone and made an ass of himself. After a while I got Greg to sit at a bench and talk to me. He said he wanted some breakfast and asked if I'd go to Mcdonalds for him. While I was there one of the bars in town opened (8 am), I figured that's where he'd be. He ended up not eating but promised he was only having a couple beers then was gonna come home with me. Halfway home he says that he's gonna walk back down to the bar after riding with me back to the house, at which point I slammed on the car brakes and told him to get the fuck out. I had worked the night before from 5pm-1am, fucked around with his drunk ass all night, and now had to be back to work at 6pm - 2am... where I really didnt get much sleep that afternoon. After I got out of work (skipped out early) I went to the Farmer's where someone told me that they didnt know where Greg was but that he had a pretty bad head wound. Someone else said they saw him go over to the Pick. I went over there and Jason (the cemetary sex psycho) said that he thought Greg was in the bathroom, he was bleeding pretty badly, and that he'd grab him at the front door in case I miss him at the back of the bar. On my way to the bathrooms Greg passes me, still bleeding but sort of cleaned up, and goes right to the bar and tries to order a drink! I reminded him that it was almost last call and there was no beer at the house hoping he'd come with me, that I could get him out of the bar that way but he gave me some $$ and sent me on a beer run. We really did have beer at the house but I left to find some weed. He'd been cutting back a lot and I can see he shouldnt ever do that again. I got him back to the house and got him quite stoned. He FINALLY passed out sometime around 4am. He still refused to put anything on his head. He needed stiches but without insurance I wasnt taking him to the ER, specially seeing they usually dont stitch foreheads, they just put liquid stiches on there and charge you just as much when I can dump super glue or nail polish in it for free at home.... Sometime Sunday afternoon I managed to get his head unstuck from his pillow case without waking him, I cleaned him up best I could with some warmed up baby wipes. He had a huge goose egg but the cut wasnt as long as I originally thought. His head is STILL yellow from the bruising, and this happened almost three weeks ago. Turns out he was play wrestling a friend inside the Farmer's and when they fell to the floor Greg's head hit the corner of the bar's metal foot rest. He hasnt had any benders since then though yesterday we got into it because he's been saying he wants to take a few days off (though I think he chickened out and doesnt want to admit it to me). I thought he was going to try to stay home with me for the night but the second the mail came he's running to the box to see if he's got an unemployment check, getting dressed to go cash it and get to the bar, telling me he's going to borrow my car for a few hours.... The day before I asked what he wanted for dinner, tacos or lasagna (stuff I cant make when my mom is here cuz it's too "stinky") he picked lasagna, I was thinking he was gonna help out cuz I cant be standing for more than 15 mins at a time. Instead he goes out to the bar saying he'll be home in an hour, but is a half hour late. So yesterday I put my foot down and went with him to the bank. My mom had gotten two of her disability checks (we're ALL losers at 53 dorset, it's cursed or something) and she'd said I needed to deposit them for her while she was in Ohio so I grabbed those. Greg said he wanted to have a couple beers at the bar after he paid off his tab. I told Greg he's getting pretty fucking close to the point at which Cassidy would benefit more from Greg's 17% than from his presence. Honestly there's never been any doubt in my mind that the baby would benefit more from Greg's money than Greg actually being around. I didnt have a father, nor did we get any kind of child support and I'd like to think that had my parents stuck together it would have been better for me than if my dad would've paid support. I hope Im not being too naive about it. Deep down I know it's not going to work though, that even though he means well he's not going to stick around and I need to start getting used to the idea of a two person family. Maybe it'll be different, but Im most always right. The months until I get into school (November somethingth) are going to be rough. I get some grant money and can touch my americorps money for tuition at that time. Until that time I have no income. Horton's is fucking with me about maternity leave pay and no one seems to know where I need to go to do something about it. I couldnt afford to get my prescription filled for my inhaler, I guess medicaid doesnt cover asthma meds.... My car insurance is due in ten days and I only have my penny jar left. The windows dont roll down in the car so the AC is always on wasting gas, which is $2.50 here. Technically though I shouldnt need gas in the car, specially not $35 a week, seeing Im supposed to be on bed rest. I need to stop being such a fucking pussy and demand some money from Greg. After my comment Greg turned into mr. nice guy though. It's sad that I have to use threats when Greg should automatically respect me. Machiavelli was right when it comes to government and business practices, but not when it comes to ruling a family. Seeing as I had to use the bar's payphone to get in touch with my mom about her disability checks I told Greg he could have one beer, one SMALL beer, a pint, not the 23 oz glasses he usually gets... he didnt put a five into the video crack machine, he put in a one (4% takes him bout a half hour to go through), I also noticed he was timing his beer along with the game money so he wouldnt be temped to refill one of them if it ran out before the other. He came back to the house with me, we ate dinner and did a bunch of chores. he did all the laundry, folded it and helped me put it away. I went down with him and showed him which settings to use on the machines too. He helped with the dishes and with cooking burger for Boggy. I cleaned the cat litter and he added new stuff to it cuz the 30 lb jug's too heavy for me to lift anymore. He took the trash out, I took a shower.... I was feeling better yesterday, after three days of feeling like shit. I think Greg is catching on that caffeine first thing in the morning for me staves off depression for a few hours. While getting smokes that afternoon before paying off his tab, he got me a liter bottle of code red. I should get some coffee for the house or something. I should stop worrying about all these little things like how much caffeine, sugar, (weed??) that get into the baby's bloodstream cuz I think my "depression chemicals" are far worse, and my outbursts and wreckless behavior cant be anywhere nearly as dangerous.

It's getting to the point in my pregnancy where it hurts if I stand, hurts if I sit, hurts when I lay down... different things hurt, but something is ALWAYS hurting... my feet hurt, my left knee REALLY hurts, my right hip REALLY hurts (but in a different way than the knee pain, I think there's no physical pain that tops knee pain, cept for maybe giving birth --we'll see about that) my back hurts, and I get migraines frequently now. Besides the pain, I get blurry vision and my hearing is off somehow too. I sweat all the fucking time... three air conditioners going full blast in the house and Im always hot, anywhere I go outside, in stores, bar... it's stiffling hot. None of my clothes fit, my hair wont stay clean, my skin is all broken out, and every one I see has some lovely comment like "god damn, you got a five year old in there?" or even better "I didnt know you were pregnant, I just thought that you'd gained some weight, like a LOT, I didnt wanna say anything though but now that it's a baby in there, holy shit you're fucken HUGE!!!" Now I've always hated people but right now I'm as close to lethal as Ive ever been. Over the weekend this cuntbag I cant stand (if she were being raped in an alley I'd cheer the dude on) was dancing on the bar and I was BEGGING Autopilot to make the bar break. The bar was bending like a Japanese hut during an earthquake but dammit it didnt crack. The next night the same bitch was at it again and I thought to spill my drink hoping she'd slip but right as I was tipping it some other girl laid her purse down right in the path of my soda. Denied! Anyway, I have no desire to sit at the bar all night babysitting Greg. Even on the nights the bar is dead, six hours of wooden bar stools and very tiny bathroom stalls aren't excatly my idea of a good time. I need some weed. Weed and/or bullets.

Always remember to quit while you're ahead.

last :: next