I was reading the paper, my husband was sitting on the couch, and of course I went on a rant about the Republican Primaries. They are a huge trigger. Maybe four years ago I could view this insanity as entertainment, the glib lies about Planned Parenthood, the determination to discount basic science.... but it's no longer politics, it's personal now. A sizable portion of the continental US believes that I have committed an act of murder. For context a sizable portion of the continental US also believes that a Muslim shouldn't be president, our polar ice caps aren't melting and our resources would be best spent building walls along the Canadian border.
But all of this rant is really about Celine. My baby girl, who I loved and lost close to a year ago. And how isolated I am in missing her. Because my husband can't - won't - listen to me talk about her. Because when I do try to talk about her, he says, "Now I'm getting depressed." To which I said, "Now you know what I walk around with on a daily basis. Because not a single day goes by that I am not depressed...that I am not sad. This is what I live with."
I don't want to give a wrong impression. He is amazing and loving and wonderful and to use the cliche, he is my rock. But being the only actively depressed person in a household can get really old.
I could use some good news.