My shrink called this morning. He's raising my meds a lot. Like, significantly. So cool: now I'll be medicated so I can turn my brain off at night to sleep. The Boy has decreed that I've got to leave the house more. That's right, the atheist that I married told me to my face over dinner that he's going to insist that I start going back to church.

It's been the depression keeping me away. It's what has been keeping me from being outside this past month or so. All the little things I used to do. All those things- they just don't happen anymore. Playgroup is now a hit or miss. Storytime is the same. The only one I've been to in the past two months is the one that we waltzed into the last ten minutes and came away with the door prize.

I wish that I didn't feel this way. I wish that I was happier. I wish... wishing won't bring it any closer to happiness.