Two Prozac and a bottle of Hendricks?

“Depression is nourished by a lifetime of ungrieved and unforgiven hurts.” ~Penelope Sweet

So I woke up this morning bawling like a baby, ready to crawl into a hole and just die.

Don’t know what’s with me lately. I’ve never been depressed before but I’m starting to think that I am SERIOUSLY depressed now. (Yeah, I’ve been “depressed” over a break up or other minor shit. I’m talking clinical depression here, not sadness with a reason)
I can’t seem to get to sleep half the time and then can’t haul my ass out of bed when I do. I feel, physically, like crap half the time for no apparant reason – and with no actual symptoms. I can’t get motivated to do much of anything. We won’t even discuss looking in a mirror because THAT just makes me want to slice my wrists.

It’s like…
Nothing is right.
And yet, when I think about it, there isn’t really anything WRONG, either. Same old, same old, yanno? Not enough money, needin’ some attention, not enough space in the house, gettin’ fat…
But that’s normal. It’s certainly not enough to make me want to disappear. And that’s sort of what I’d like to do. Just… vanish… for a bit. Not run away or leave my family. Just… I dunno… stop time until I feel better?

I’ve worked in the psych field for long enough that I’m SURE I should be able to deal with this. I have the knowledge.
It’s a little different when you’re trying to apply it to yourself, though.

I just don’t know what to DO, how to fix it, or what’s even wrong, damn it.

All I know is this sucks and I’m making Taylor miserable and he doesn’t seem to know how to help and I don’t know if he really could and…

I want to sleep for seventy two days and wake up to find everything, myself included, ok again.

“It is a time when one’s spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death.” ~Mark Twain