I got through the whole day without tears, without curling up in a ball in bed and pulling the covers up around me. I listened to music. I kissed my husband. I sat on the stoop, breathed in the fall air, looked at the stars. I danced with the cats. It was a good day.

"To see milk in your dream, symbolizes maternal instincts and motherly love. It also denotes human kindness, wholesomeness, and compassion for new acquaintances.

To dream that you are drinking milk, signifies domestic bliss and inner nourishment. It may also imply your need to strengthen your ties and relationships with others."

I made a decision a few years ago, after getting off of Zoloft and Wellbutrin, that if I could deal with my chronic depression without the help of medications, I would do so. It was an easy decision for me, because while I do credit antidepressants with saving my life, I have always had problems with them - a laundry list of side effects which were in many ways worse than the depression itself. I never seemed to get the right pill or combination of pills, the right dosage. It just got to be too much, so I said screw it and with my doctor's blessing, weaned off. I made a promise that at the first sign of danger, I would get help - I know very well what my danger zone is, and while I have come close to it, I have been able to pull myself back from that edge. It has gotten easier over time, and the periods of acute depression are much less frequent than they were ten years ago, but part of living with this is being constantly aware of my moods and how I'm dealing with them.

Mike and I had a long talk the other night about this latest rough patch I'm having, and I think we've come up with some good ways to get through it. He did ask if I thought that going back on meds for a short period of time would help, and I told him I wasn't prepared to do that just yet. It's better to feel bad than to feel nothing at all, and while getting out of bed in the morning is difficult, I'm still doing it. I'm getting out of bed, putting my face on, going out into the world and living. If the day comes that I can't do that, then I'll know it's time, and he'll know too. But I really think that between my stubbornness and his unwavering support, we can beat this thing.

I'm feeling hopeful, and that's a step forward.

I'm in another one of those funks that I can't shake. The weight of all we've dealt with lately has gotten to me, the stress of it all is catching up to me despite my efforts to keep it at bay. Physically, the change of seasons is always tough, so I've been trying very hard to rest as much as possible, to be gentle with myself, but it isn't helping. I'm kind of a mess.

I keep thinking about all of the huge and difficult things friends are going through now, how we could have much bigger issues to deal with than we do, and how lucky we are. Instead I feel like there's so much more I should be doing for the people I care about, and I'm not. I'm completely disconnected. It burns a hole in my stomach. It makes my heart hurt and invades my dreams. It has made me profoundly sad.

I always feel restless this time of year, but this feels different somehow. It feels bigger and a little scary, like there's some step that I need to take that I'm completely missing, and the end result will be... what?

(Yesterday morning)

Dietsch: John Spencer is dumb.

Me: Christ. "Dumb" doesn't even begin to cover it.

Dietsch: I know, but I worried that none of the other words I wanted to use--prick, asshole, jackass, shitbird, scumbag--would make it through the filters if they were in the subject line.

(Cut to this morning)