#no shit.

And then look at this wee face when someone is asking about his favourite things and asking about him(!)

I would protect this lil guy with my life, no questions asked.

He's such a good kid.

I'm pissed off at my dad and my brother too but at least they're not hounding me to call and talk when I've repeatedly said I need space. They wouldn't call unprompted anyway, so it doesn't really weigh that much in the grand scheme of things (except that the absence of their willing and enthusiastic interaction with me does weigh a shit ton on my heart, but telling them that would be emotional blackmail so we deal). But my mother is the grande dame of turning shit around on me so somehow my being depressed and needing specifically their help is also going to be my fault if I talk to any of them about this. A track record exists where, after I conveyed that I was suicidal, I was dropped off at a therapist's office for weekly sessions for around 2 years and nothing really changed in the goddamn fucking household, much less any inquiry as to how I was doing after a session that had visibly wrecked me. I should have been strong enough not to be depressed in the first place, and if I did get there, I should have gotten out on my own, was the undercurrent.

Whatever happens next, depressed or not, I'm going to have to deal with the complications of the spiritual phantom limb that excising the need to depend on their support for my well being has got me feeling these last few months. But as far as now is concerned, I've kicked the suicidality out of my consciousness and I can fairly decently wrestle it back down when it comes out of the subconscious vault I locked it in, so I'm exhausted and overstimulated all the damn time but by God I'm going to live through it.