I have been suddenly and unexpectedly overwhelmed with a knock-down case of depression. I’ve wept every day for an entire week. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach has left me barely interested in eating. I lost 4 pounds last week alone. That probably isn’t a good thing.

I just cannot shake this horrible sadness. It has consumed me.

So very sad.

And helpless.

I cannot feel the foggy veil of depression lifting. I don’t know how to make it go away.

This is the first time since March that I have felt like I might need to see my therapist.

It was just one year ago this past week that I had my second miscarriage and had to re-evaluate the idea of taking anti-depressants because therapy didn’t feel like it would be enough.

I stopped taking Prozac when I found out I was pregnant with Huggy Baby in January. Three months later I stopped going to therapy.

Sure, the pregnancy was at times stressful but I was doing okay. I had my support system in place and for months I didn’t feel like I needed therapy—or drugs—to feel “right”.

Then a couple of weeks ago it started creeping in. A week ago it hit me hard and full on.

…

I wrote that six weeks ago.

I’m better today. Not perfect. Just Better.

I think I was trying to stuff my feelings and pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. Talking about it? Talking about it would inevitably lead to uncontrollable tears.

Tears that embarrass me in my inability to turn them off.

But addressing that there was problem despite the tears has been a really important step towards healing for me.

What I’ve come to realize is that I need to be open. I need to be a better communicator. I need to learn to nurture myself.

I have no idea how to do that.