"There's nothing wrong with me. I'm just PMSing. Violently. Again."
"Ok maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I AM inclined towards depression."
"Maybe there's nothing wrong with me. Maybe this damn relationship is making me fucking crazy."
"This therapy crap is ridiculous."
"Ok that's it, I'm totally going to leave him. I have to. There's just no other way to do this. Rent will be $1500 a month if I stay here, and electricity will be close to $200..."
"There's no fucking way I can leave him. Things are going to get so heated. He's going to hate me. He's going to fucking HATE me. And then my kids will hate me too because this whole thing was my idea. Besides I can't afford to leave him."
"But seriously how the hell do I stay in this?"
"I am so sick of this stupid pouch on my stomach but I can't ever commit to anything so I don't do anything to make it go away. Why am I like that? Why am I so lame?"
"Oh, look! An air plant! I love air plants!"
"FUCKING WEEDS! I HATE YOU!"
"What the fuck is wrong with me?"
Some times I couldn't hold it and I'd burst out crying. Specifically in the car a couple of times and when I stepped into the shower. They last 90 seconds tops. And I feel like a fucking psycho. And so I have spent the whole day. Feeling psychotic. Feeling dark and dismal beyond fucking belief. Feeling like I don't even understand it. It's so heavy inside. It's crushing. And strange. And I despise it because it makes me feel so weak.