8:24 a.m.

[ Hopeless ]

L has been sick with this bronchial problem for about a month now. He gets better for awhile then he's just as sick as he was before. He's only been on the new job since January and the project his group is working on is groundbreaking (I can't say what, I was sworn to secrecy, but let's just say it's major), so he works himself to exhaustion. He's miserable today, feeling sick and wrung out because he didn't sleep much last night. Today he has an appointment with his doctor, his fourth thus far. I wish someone would at least think to give him a chest x-ray. Being a typical stubborn male he refuses to ask for one. It couldn't hurt to have one. He smoked for years just like I did. I had the x-ray and everything was alright. At this point I'm losing faith in the doctors I always thought were so great because after the first two office visits, it's not illogical to assume that it might be a good idea to take an actual peek inside. I'm worried that there may be something else going on.

Granted, I've had hard-core bronchitis before too, and I did almost die from it. So I know it's possible to hold onto it for several weeks, even with treatment. But this is really bad and I've never seen him so sick. He keeps going and I'm concerned about what that may be doing to him too.

I'm really beginning to get scared.

Every time he gets sick it makes me afraid, gets me started wondering how I could live without him. The reality is; I can't. He isn't one of those people the world would be better off without. He's a wonderful husband, father, friend and partner and I really don't think I could be without him and function. The babies adore him. How could they be okay if they don't have their dad?

I have to try and stop thinking about it like that. I realize that his being sick doesn't automatically mean we're going to lose him. I think I have an expectation of it because so far so many things have turned to shit in my life and I've managed to be happy with L for about three and a half years, which is the longest I've ever been happy about anything. So I expect it to be yanked out from under me somehow.

I'm fully aware of how emo and angsty that sounds but no one who hasn't lived my life could possible know what the hell I'm talking about. They didn't grow up with my family and they didn't marry FF. Other people have pain too, but for some reason I tend to think mine is unique. It probably isn't. As the song says, everybody hurts.

I just thought that most of mine was over. Maybe it is and I'm doing my patented melodramatic piscean over-reaction thing. That's when I take something simple, analyze it carefully, examine it, turn it over and over in my head for awhile and make it really, really complicated. I'm good at it too. If drama were a martial art form I'd be a freaking blackbelt by now.

So maybe this is all no big deal and he's just suffering from a particularly nasty case of bronchitis that's hanging on. and he'll be better in another week or so. The babies still have slight coughs too (no way are they as intense as their dad's), but they're persistent.

People look at the attention generated by a drama queen and think over-reacting is a fun way to get attention.

Not so.

Catastrophising is painful and being a drama queen sucks.

Maybe I need to go back into therapy.

I'm not depressed. Actually, it's been about two weeks since I stopped taking the Elavil and I feel pretty good, other than this agonizing worry.

I'm totally fucking hopeless.