So I had a brief encounter with Specter last night. [JOURNAL ENTRY]

NOTE TO READER: This post mentions suicide. If this is a trigger, please do not read it at this time.

This is what I quickly typed on my computer through a bucket of tears while my daughter was getting ready for her mother to pick her up…

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“No Lexapro for 3 days. Weepy and emotional. Swirly headed (from withdrawal?)

“I don’t feel like writing.

“My daughter is in the shower getting ready for her mom to pick her up.

“I’ve been weepy all day…at church…when she got up from the dinner table. Do I talk to her about this? Do I let her know that her dad has a disease? I want her to know that it’s okay. I want her to know that she’s NOT going crazy if she feels like me. I think I  remember reading somewhere that scientists believe that clinical depression is hereditary.

“Her mom may try to take her away from me if she thinks I’m not stable. ‘Mom’s House. Dad’s House.'”

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