I've had kind of a crappy few weeks month or so. I've been feeling myself sink into depression again, despite getting a lot better about minding my meds. Who knew that all it would take is putting the bottle of pills in my bedside drawer?
I've really needed to return to regular therapy. I loved my most recent therapist, but had to stop seeing her when our caseworker screwed up our Medicaid and they stopped paying for my sessions. So rather than call and try to resolve the matter, or attempt to find a new counselor, I've been sitting on my ass night after night, watching tv. I stay up later and later (and get up later and later -- meaning I've actually let it get bad enough that I've been late to work a few times), and I ignore all responsibility, save work and parenting duties.
My perfectionist side keeps telling me that trying to fix my situation wouldn't do any good -- that the insurance will never pay for a claim several months old and getting older every day, and even if I could find another therapist that takes our insurance, s/he wouldn't be as good as mine. So I disappear into my fantasy world and escape. Over and over. And once I start, I just can't seem to stop.
And it's been adversely affecting my whole life. Like I said, I've been late to work a few times, and when I'm at work, I am exhausted and can't do my job as well. I'm cranky and short-tempered with my son, and my marriage has suffered the most. Last week my husband and I were fighting pretty much the whole week. We've mentioned the "D word" before, but never decided it was the right thing to do.
Yesterday my husband decided he couldn't deal with it any more, and told me he couldn't see any other option but to get a divorce. I said a number of different things to try to change his mind, but nothing would. I told him that I wanted us to be together, but I didn't want him to be unhappy; if being apart would make him happy, then so be it.
But last night our son was sick. He had a midlevel fever, and he kept waking up again and again. I got up with him and got him to go back to sleep. The next thing I knew it was 5 AM and he was crying again. My husband said, "It's your turn. I got him last time, when you were sound asleep." I accused him of making it up (I had no memory of it, right?) but went and took care of the baby anyway.
Forty-five minutes later, I crawled back into bed and apologized for insulting him in that way. I rolled over to go back to sleep, and my leg brushed his. I didn't move it, and a few minutes later, he enveloped me in his arms and we cuddled. I said, "I missed this. . . . Do you really never want to do this again?" We spent the next half-hour cuddling and talking and making up.
All day I've been pretty deliriously happy. I know that we both have a lot of work to do to make up for what we've done to each other in the past several months, but right now, nothing can shake my good mood.