It's Christmas Eve. Just about 8pm. And my husband is already in bed. He went to bed mad at me and the world because our Christmas isn't like the traditional Christmas that he longs for, the kind of Christmas that he sees on TV. Of course, it's all my fault that Christmas Eve and Christmas Day will suck. It's just the two of us and he still wants me to make a big meal and all that. Mostly I think he just wishes he was with his kids and grandkids. He'd rather be with them than me. He even told me that if I died he'd go live near them. It made me want to be dead just so he could be happy. I'm so angry that I can't cry even though I'm needing to cry.

I'd like to go in and talk to my husband but he's so mad that it wouldn't do any good to try to talk to him. This depression stinks. I don't even feel like celebrating the holidays but I decorated and had us get some presents for each other and he's mad at me anyhow. What's the point? Why do I even bother? At times like this I just don't even know why living it worth it.

I wish I could talk to my therapist, but I won't ruin her holiday because of this. It's not like we haven't been here before. Every holiday is like this. He has all these expectations but doesn't want to lift a finger to make any of it happen. So, when it doesn't happen, it's all my fault. If I wasn't so depressed his life would be so much better (I'm sure that's what he's thinking).

So now I have to go to bed feeling like crap hoping that tomorrow won't be the disaster that tonight has been.

Really, what's the point?

I have to say though that I'm relieved that there is a place that I can express these things, especially on Christmas Eve. I'd feel even worse if I had no place to share. Thanks for being there, PC.