Because I have been diagnosed and in treatment for so long (actually about two years by now), and have for so long claimed to be under control, I can't unleash or disclose the full extent of my runaway depressive episode to any of those who love me, lest the stigma, even the loving reaction to it, return.

Can I survive until next thursday, when I get to see my shrink again?

Jellybaby now has a baby brother, who for the purposes of this post will be called Jellyfish Jr. Full head of dark hair and a burning sigil.

Managed to take Jellybaby to her first pub with Grandad and "wet the baby's head" with Guinness. Some traditions must be observed.

Dimview, we can't pin this one on you, your alibi checked out.

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