Here is another post.

I'm posting because my soul feels heavy and empty at the same time and I want to write exactly what's going on.

I don't want sympathy comments or sideways hugs and the accompanying, obligatory, "How ARE you?!" I'm fine and this will pass. But this is my blog and I'll be an emotional wreck if I want to.

Denial, betrayal, anger, depression, acceptance. These are the stages of grief. I figured out Sunday that I've been shuffling in and out of these phases since Jacob left in August. This week it's depression. I want it to go away. I talked with Jacob in a very frank discussion. We have lots of these. It's one of my favorite things about our relationship--that we can be so blatantly honest with each other. He said he's been going through these phases, too.

I work with a psychologist (a fantastic one) and a speech pathologist (also fantastic). We spend a lot of time collaborating on our case load and trying to get all the paperwork done right. I noticed that the psychologist has been spending extra time in my room, making excuses to chat and find out how he can help with the students we share. Today, the three of us were working late after school. The speech path looked at me, looked at the psychologist and said, "She has depression." (referring to me) Psychologist nodded and said, "Yeah, I know." Thaaaaaaanks, guys.

So I refilled an old fluoxetine prescription and it got sent to the wrong pharmacy. Insert an impromptu trip to Springville and dropping off my kids at Grandma's house on the night she's trying to write an 8 page paper so I can get some meds and grapes without Leah having a tantrum.

I sit on the floor, I play stupid video games, and I do very little laundry. I have a husband who volunteers to read the scriptures to me to help me feel better and a 6 year old who writes me love notes. I have no money in the bank. Teachers don't make enough. I keep forgetting to eat but my pants are tight.