DD2 is 1 year old on Sunday. She's a lovely, bubbly, contented, chubby baby. A joy to be around, like her elder sister.
And I'm still on ADs, still on the max dose, and slipping further and further down a black hole w/now daily panic attacks. Again.
Have appointment w/psychiatrist in January.
But FUCK.
I'm so fucking tired of this.
I'm so tired of it all I've just given up hope that I'll ever not be this way.
To top it all off, every man I ever did anything with for more than five minutes besides DH has been a depressive.
And who should crawl out of the woodwork but Ex-Lover-from-Torrid-Fling-in-Paris.
'How are you doing?'
'Oh, I live in Scotland now. Forever. And I have two daughters. And my life is right up there w/pissing in the wind and having it blow back in your face. How's you?'
'My life is shit, too, even though I am rich and successful. Welcome to the club. I knew there was a reason I never forgot you after FIVE FUCKING YEARS, b/c you're just as fucked up as I am. But that's okay, cuz I'll be in your area next week. Want to meet up?'
'Yes, yes, I do. In fact, let's just skip the coffee and go back to another hotel and hang our naked, vulnerable, fucked up souls round each other and get even more messed up!'