I had another breakdown today.
I’m not even really sure what happened, but I know it had something to do with a dirty house and I’m pretty sure there was well-intended joke from my husband.
Side note: I think he’s right that I’ve lost some of my sense of humor.
(But don’t tell him I said that.)
Before I knew what was happening, I was alone in the house, collapsed on my bed in a fit of tears.
What the fuck?
Postpartum depression can be such a persistent bitch.
