Pity Party...table for one!

Maybe it's the midnight gig. Maybe it's the fact that I'm PMSing. Maybe it's the fact that our effing appraisal came in $27,000 below what we paid for this effing house thus negating our refi that we were in the middle of. Maybe it's the reality check that we've now joined the upside down mortgage club that I had no desire to join. Maybe it's the fact that this house looks like a disaster inside and out. Maybe it's the diet, er I mean lifestyle change I've started...again. Maybe it's because I'm really missing my Mom right now. Maybe it's because I'm tired of being the Go-To person who feels responsible for doing everything. Maybe it's because I feel like a shitty Mom. Maybe it's the realization that my state is circling the drain and I'm scared. Maybe it's one of these things, maybe it's all of them but I'm depressed.

Why is it that when I say I'm depressed in front of my husband, he thinks I'm gonna off my life or my kids? Seriously. Can't someone be fucking depressed and not be a danger to themselves or their kids? Good God. We actually got into an discussion (oh who am I kidding, it was a fight) about ME mentioning that I'm depressed today and him making comments like he's gotta work 8 hours tonight so..........
So.....? So....? WTF does that mean? So......don't kill yourself or my kids? Seriously?
He says "what am I supposed to think when you say your depressed like 3 times?"
I say, "Maybe come give me a friggen hug or something?" "Trust me when I say that I'd never hurt the kids (I can't believe I even said that much less typed it. It doesn't even deserve the keystrokes is so ludicrous) or myself. I'd LEAVE. That's how I'd solve my depression. I'd leave."

Ugh. Can you imagine what it'd be like if I WASN'T on meds?

Good Grief.

Off to finish my meal at the pity party table for one. Be back soon.