I have been depressed on and off for the past two years.

Two years ago I got into the worst relationship of my life. Of course, I’ve had my puppy love, suitors, but the first real relationship I had was something I regretted having. I didn’t get anything out of that. I just lost a lot.

I lost my self-respect. I lost my family’s confidence in me. I also lost my sister’s respect. We might be acting as if nothing has happened but I know, that something was missing, I just can’t put my finger on it.

Then I got sent off on an assignment abroad. I started anew. I made lots of friends, went out a lot, played around once – I have been thinking that no guy will enter into a serious relationship with me once they knew of my past. I have been happy getting away from my family for a while. Nothing beats being with the family, but I got a taste of independence while abroad.

Living alone abroad was something I really enjoyed. I got away from the annoying stares and questions of the people who knew of what I’ve been through and what I’ve done to my family. I got away from that gold-digger of a guy who just made me happy the first few months, then made me live through hell once he started getting what he wants – money and sex.

For nine months, I also enjoyed what I’m doing. I practically enjoyed the late nights, the persistent calls, and those snotty colleagues – all because I like what I do. It’s nice to be doing something important, and people treating me like I’m really worth something. My boss even offered me a job.

Then I met my guy. He made my nights alone abroad really bearable. We would talk until the wee hours in the morning, he would call and text even long distance. It’s the first time I’m really happy with a guy.

I knew good things won’t last. I should have known I would hit the dust again sometime.

I didn’t get the job abroad because the bosses locally are against it. I mean, really, it would defeat the purpose of the company, which is to save costs so we’ll do the jobs here instead of abroad. I got really depressed because of that. I really wanted that job abroad. I wouldn’t get an offer if my foreign bosses don’t believe in what I can do. I knew I can do a lot more, but I guess I wasn’t really meant to.

I wasn’t meant to stay abroad because I was meant to get pregnant. Yes, Marian, the perfectionist, nerd extraordinaire, school-home girl, the overweight girl with thick glasses overly serious about studying that she didn’t get a boyfriend in college, was now pregnant. Everyone was surprised I ran off with the good-for-nothing bastard after college, but now they are even more surprised that I got myself pregnant, knowing that there is no turning back from this moment on.

I chose to be pregnant. I loved my guy more than anyone else in the world. As I have said, the two months I spent with him are the best two months of my life – ever! So why on earth am I feeling depressed now?

It must be the pre-natal depression. If there’s post partum depression, there should be pre-natal depression. Or maybe what I’m having is just normal maternity blues, or “paglilihi”. Whatever it is, I’m depressed again.

My guy left me to work abroad. Two weeks after, we found out I’m pregnant. I should have been ecstatic. Well, I’m happy, but not quite.

Two weeks after finding out I’m pregnant, I found those disturbing emails he sent to his former lover. The girl he just can’t forget. The girl he wanted to date even while he’s dating me AND trying to get me pregnant.

Then last week I tried asking him about his ex. He spoke about her as if he was still really fond of her – he couldn’t help but chuckle while talking about how she was taller than him, how they were having sex in the girl’s boarding house, yeah I think his ex was a really good catch. Then I tried to see his past emails, and found emails dating 2006 to his friend calling her “asawa” and telling her he loves her. Something he also he didn’t tell me. That was in the past, so it’s ok.

I can’t help but think that somehow he might still be thinking about his ex, because of all the memories he had with her. They were together for maybe two or three years (he told me he lost his innocence at 18) and they broke up when he was in Saudi. Hey, he told me they were only together for a year and a half. That guy never really gets his stories straight.

Now I’m pregnant, with no guy taking care of me. I get really depressed when I show up at the doctor’s office alone, without a guy with me, when all the other pregnant ladies have their husbands with them. I just call my guy to tell him that I’m at the doctor just so I won’t feel sorry for myself.

Whenever I need something now, my mom was the one who buys them for me. Sometimes my friends would get me the food that I’m craving.

I keep on thinking of my guy looking for someone else. I still don’t understand why he has to tell those things to his former lover when he kept on assuring me he don’t mean them. I just won’t buy that excuse.

My guy could be doing something, or not, but I still don’t trust him completely. Not after those emails. Not after he got pregnant and he won’t go home, and I still can’t have him back.

My life is spiraling downward. I can’t resign from work and look for new pastures. I can’t do what I want. I can’t go back to school and study again. Not in the near future. Not with the way things are going right now. I don’t know what I wanted to do now. What does my future hold for me now? I’m lost.

This evening I snapped. I yelled at my sister, then when she told me off for getting angry I swore at her – something I have always avoided to do. My sister stopped respecting me, calling me “ate” in such a sarcastic way, ever since I ran off with that guy, and now I’m pregnant.

I’m sorry, but there are times when I actually regretted being pregnant. I don’t want to marry my guy yet, so I don’t know how I can raise my kid myself, when I trapped.

I’m such a spiteful individual. Galit ako sa mundo. There, I’ve said it. I might be depressed, I might be bringing this on to myself, I might be thinking too much. But I’m praying that these thoughts of mine, wouldn’t lead me to take my own life.

Suicidal.