I'm still struggling with depression today. I would have thought that it would lift a bit for the holidays. There's so much going right, right now. My husband is home. My daughter's first Christmas. We're together as a family this first year, and we'll always have that to warm our hearts.

Maybe I should go back to the doctor and get my antidepressants changed. Maybe I should take up a new hobby, or do something more physical with my life. The plant that I bought nearly a year ago is almost dead for good this time; I can't seem to ever keep a houseplant alive. What does that say about my ability to parent? I can't even nurture a potted plant...

My friends think that I'm too hard on myself. I don't think I'm hard enough on myself. Here I sit, whining about things that I could control if I'd just expend an effort. It's just so hard to keep getting out of bed in the morning. Easier, now that KittyCat has begun waking me up with happy laughter and smiles. My depression moves to the long evenings when she's gone to sleep and I'm left alone in this apartment with the chores and the internet to help me pass time. It becomes a struggle to stay out of bed at 6 o'clock. I just want to crawl under the covers and hide. Please, God, let me sleep and not know any of this until the baby wakes me again to sunshine and laughter.

I'm in a Black mood tonight. Don't look at me. I don't want them to know how bad I feel right now.