I’m feeling mildly depressed.
Well, I suppose that’s an understatement considering that I’ve been unable to stop crying for more than ten minutes all day.
I don’t know what’s going on with me. I think part of my emotional breakdown is that I’m exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping very well (thanks to my beautiful belly, which 99% of the time I love, and 1% of the time I wish would shrink just for 8 hours so I could get some sleep) and I just feel like I’m walking around in a daze. I’ve dealt with this before; I was on anti-depressants for years when I was younger, though I’ve been off them now since just before I met Tim in 2005. I know how to recognize the signs that I’m getting “there” again, and I’m getting slightly worried that I’m headed down that road.
I don’t want to go down that road again. I don’t like that person.
On top of not sleeping, the stress of Tim not having a job is really getting to me. I look every day for jobs that he’s qualified for, and there just aren’t any jobs out there. He’s willing to take a withdrawal from the union if he can find a full-time job, but the jobs just aren’t opening up. And he’s 98 on the bench. With no work in sight, 98 is a pretty dim number. Winter is coming, and winter is typically a slow time for sheet metal workers as it is. I just don’t know what we’re going to do.
So I’ve spent most of the day laying in bed, crying over…nothing? Everything? I don’t even know anymore. I’m so excited for this baby, for my sweet little boy, but I”m terrified that we’re just not going to be able to make ends meet.
And you’d think that Tim would, at the very least, help out around the house since he’s not working. I shouldn’t come home after working 8 hours to find the house a complete disaster, laundry not done, dishes in the sink. I don’t think I’m asking too much to ask him to just tidy up every day when Maddie’s napping. Our house isn’t very big, it doesn’t take long to put things in their place.
I just want things to be ok. I want to have a normal life, where bill collectors aren’t calling 20 times a day and my checking account isn’t overdrawn and my husband goes to work and we come home and make dinner and have a life.
Is that so much to ask?
Maybe, in this economy, it is. I don’t know.