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Life is… challenging right now.

Perfect Husband is depressed. He has always been prone to it, and I think the miscarriage and the lack of support at his work and who knows what other factors have helped spur it on. I haven’t seem him this bad in years, so I am trying to give him breaks wherever possible. He does as much as he can, but he doesn’t have much emotional or physical energy right now. What he does have, I want him to devote to getting better.

Luckily, I think I started taking my antidepressants again in time, because I am not depressed.

But I am sad at times.

I get sad thinking about how, a month ago, we were happy and expecting a baby.

Now I have no baby to expect, and a damaged husband, and we are focusing on getting through life one day at a time. We’re short on money, because we’ve been eating out a lot rather than trying to summon the energy to cook. We’re trying to stay cheerful for Owl, but it exhausts us and when he is asleep we collapse into introverted silence.

I had a midwife appointment booked for today. In a parallel universe, maybe I will cheerfully attend it.

I am worried about my husband. I am worried I won’t get pregnant soon, that I’ll never have a second child or that Owl will be half grown by the time I get pregnant, when what we really wanted was a playmate for him.

I am worried that I WILL get pregnant but that PH’s depression won’t improve and I will be functionally a single parent with two kids.

Thinking about life scares me right now.

So I’m hiding.

When Owl is asleep, I spend a lot of time re-reading and editing my NaNoWriMo story, which is now complete with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Working on it helps me dwell in a dream world where I become a rich author, can stay home to write all day, and support PH so that he doesn’t have to go to work in that poisonous environment. Instead he could coach children’s soft ball and soccer teams, umpire sporting events, practice his curling skills, and do the other things he loves to do but has no time or energy for.

If I could just become a paid writer… do what I love and need to do and get paid for it… stay home all day on the computer…

So I dream.

Even though I know that it is just a kind of a joke of a story and unlikely to ever make me a penny.

What I should be focusing is on reality – washing the dishes that PH can’t wash, folding clean laundry so we can stop living out of a hamper, and pursuing new dog training clients to replace the money we have frittered away.

I need to stop hiding in dreams.

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