Stael depression, half my willpower gone, and the leftovers from a miserable day... yeah, I'm doing well for myself here.

At this point the pain in my side and my back is intense enough that quite honestly, I am tempted to go to the hospital... but I KNOW what they'll do.

Nothing.

Not a damned thing.

They won't give me painkillers - I'm pregnant. They won't give me muscle relaxants - I'm pregnant. They won't make me unconscious - I'm pregnant. They won't do an X-ray to make sure that there is no serious blockage - I'm pregnant. They won't give me anti-nausia medication - I'm pregnant. They won't even give me the time of day.

On the 28th I go in to see my doctor. On the 30th and 31st I go in to the clinic.

In all seriousness, this is too long.

I need to either stop hurting, stop caring, or stop breathing. No middle ground.

I know, I know... it's just two days, then two days more, then one more day... five days, Jax. Surely you can hold on for five days. It's not that bad. *snickers* Oh, but it is... it is, it is, there is something growing inside me and something dying inside me and nothing but pain with every movement, every breath. There is no way to turn off my mind. I'm tired... so tired... but if I sleep, I dream of an army of dead children, I dream of a knife at my throat, I dream of being alone... and I wake up to find out that I AM alone. That I still hurt.

That it's still all for nothing.

*shrugs*

Maybe this is just the depression talking. If so, it's talking pretty damned loud and quite articulated.

I go through every minute praying that maybe the next minute won't hurt so bad. I get up every morning trying to convince myself that the pain won't be too bad, that I can deal with it, that it's worth waking up.

*shrugs again*

I'm getting tired of lying to myself.