And So It Continues...

...another bad day.

It was sunny outside, and supposed to be quite warm. So I figured we'd get out of the house early and hopefully that would help raise my spirits. Instead, it seemed to be the beginning of the end. All it took was a kicking and screaming tantrum in Staples when I was just trying to look for ink ... I lost all desire in even trying to feel better. I also left without any ink. At the bank, I decided to make my deposit at the ATM ... it was out of service. I threw it in the night deposit and am hoping for the best... I was not going to drag her into the bank after the fiasco at Staples. So instead of staying out and enjoying the day, we headed right back home after that...

It just wasn't a good day.

And she didn't nap either.

And I'm tired of repeating the same things over and over again only to have her not listen and get hurt. It's one thing to cause a mess. It's another to not listen when I say "stop teasing the dog, she'll bite you" over and over again only to have her get bitten by the dog because she flippantly laughed and continued on her path anyway. Yup, our dog bit her. Right on the face. So now I have to decide what to do about that, too. My first baby, my furry friend, my only faithful companion who is always there for me. She was only doing what a dog would do when cornered - and she gave advanced warning. But Maggie doesn't listen to me or the dog. And this isn't the first time. I figured if she got bitten once or twice, she would stop doing things like this. Instead, she persists in pestering and harassing my furbaby to the point where the dog can't take it anymore and snaps at her. It's not fair to either of them, but I don't know what to do. I don't want to give up my best friend.

At least Maggie went to sleep at 6:40PM without complaint. Last night, she was up until nearly 10PM.

Forgive me for being an anchor and bringing everyone down. I always found journaling to be therapeutic (which is most likely why I don't blog much when I'm happy and everything is going well). It doesn't matter if anyone reads it, it just helps to get it out of my head.

Tomorrow I have my first appointment with the new midwives. And as much as I don't want to, I will have to tell them about my depression. I know it's not healthy for any of us, and this is the longest bout I've had in a while. Probably the worst since the 2 month mark after I miscarried Arabella, when I actually sought out help at the hospital's depression screening because I also thought I was bipolar. The therapist I spoke with felt that I had problems with clinical depression, bipolar disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder. The psychiatrist, however, did not... he felt I didn't fit the textbook definition (my bouts weren't frequent enough or long enough) and because of that, insurance felt my depression was not biological and therefore treatment would have to be paid for mostly by me. Fortunately, I got pregnant shortly thereafter and ended therapy. I didn't like the psychiatrist anyway.

In any case, I don't want to see another psychiatrist. And I don't want to be on medication. But I don't know what else to do right now. I have talked to hubby but he's only here so much, and I can't put all the burden of my mental health on him. I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the midwife says tomorrow.