So today I fessed up to being depressed.
It wasn't easy, I am so awesome at denial that I almost had myself convinced, but I had a sudden realisation - I could not keep living like this. My options were few and I knew that if I didn't get what was going through my head to another person right away, I was afraid I would lose my strength and go back into my well-constructed illusion. And if that happened, I wasn't quite sure I could trust myself not to do something regrettable.
Andrew came home immediately, calling my midwife on the way. She listened while I cried and cried and cried, she asked me some questions and declared me enough of a risk to myself and my children that once again I am not allowed to be left alone. I think she and everyone else might expect me to resent that, and I very well may in time, but I appreciate it. I am super-hella-worried about what it all means, and not at all comfortable asking so very many people for help. But, the low-down is my mother is flying in on Monday - Sebastian is staying with his Auntie Shannon all weekend and has a playdate with our friend Heather on Monday morning. And I suddenly feel much less overwhelmed.
If I hadn't asked for help, or if I had reached out to Andrew - but not let it go further, I would likely still be feeling a sense of relief, I might even think that everything really would be okay, but it wouldn't and I would go right back into my anxiety-fuelled cycle. This time, for the first time, I feel like *woah* there might be a real light at the end of all of this. I might go back to being me...
Gosh, I wonder if I will recognize myself if that happens. I hope I do, I have a feeling that I am a really cool person (I have made such awesome friends over the years - so I have that to go on).