8w2d

Last time around, at what we later concluded was the point at which something went wrong, I started having dreams that I was caring for other people's children. I had such a dream last week. And I had another one last night. These dreams have left me with a dark sense of foreboding.

That sense of foreboding has been seeping in more pervasively over the past week, and not just because of the dreams. I have always fought the twin demons of depression and anxiety, and I have generally been victorious. But they seem to have been steeling themselves for battle of late. Days are filled with depression, which is in part why I am having such a hard time at work. Nights are especially bad for anxiety. I just want my next appointment to come so at least I can have a chance to breathe a little, feel a little bit of confidence, know that we at least made it further than last time without any sh*t landing upon the proverbial fan. And if the appointment doesn't let me breathe easier, feel any confidence, or bring any positive knowledge, at least the depression and anxiety won't seem so inexplicable and pointless anymore.

Six days until that appointment. If it goes well, we're telling our parents. If it doesn't, I have no idea what I'll do.