I had a bad night last night. Things were fine until I crawled into bed with DH and then I just felt so overwhelmed by the myriad ways I am falling apart these days that I just, well, fell apart.
Fortunately my husband doesn't mind if I literally cry on his shoulder. It's just so old, all this... whatever-it-is. DH is a good listener and makes non-dismissive helpful comments and gives good advice. He is without a doubt the best thing to ever happen to me.
I realized last night that my life was a series of disasters until I met him. Then I had about a six year reprieve, and now it seems to have started up again. Only now it's not just happening to me -- I could deal with that, really I could -- it's affecting my husband, too, and our children.
It is such a struggle. I know this won't last forever and it is not wrong to say I'm looking forward to that day -- while at the same time I'm hoping that day is far in the future. What gets me are the times when I feel that is a completely unrealistic hope. Last night was one of those times, and I don't exactly know why.
Today I made some more doctor appointments, and we'll see what comes out of it all.