Can you talk me off of the cliff?

I am having a really bad day.

Not only do I have a migraine right now, but I also woke up hung over.

Yes, "Miss I do yoga and eat organically and only occasionally drink wine" woke up hung over.

Not fun.

We attended a Stag and Doe for Mr. JB's cousin who is getting married and I was given a second glass of wine by another relative -- honestly who gets drunk on two glasses of wine??? And of course, I could not eat a thing that was being served so I was drinking on basically an empty stomach.

To top it off I'm dealing with a heck of a lot of guilt -- yet another Father's Day for my wonderful husband has passed and he still isn't a dad. It's one thing to feel sorry for myself on Mother's Day, but my guilt level has reached new proportions this year.

I've mentioned before that I dealt with clinical depression while I was in university. I had a breakdown the summer after my second year and it took a few years of antidepressants and therapy to get better. Not only was I depressed, but I had horrible anxiety attacks that left me physically paralyzed and I couldn't get out of bed.

It was the worst time of my life.

I was very lucky to have the support of my best friend (yes, the fertile one, who was my roommate at the time) and an incredibly supportive therapist. I was suicidal more than once, and I was even taken to the hospital after seeing my GP at the time because I was in such a state. I guess she was afraid that I was going to hurt myself.

I stopped taking antidepressants when I moved to France. It was four years after my lowest point and I decided that I was done with being sad.

I never thought that I would feel that horrible ever again, but here I am.

I admitted to Mr. JB this afternoon that I think that I need to seek professional help. As usual he's 100% supportive. I know that my feelings of anger, frustration and sadness are not normal. I don't want these horrible feelings to swallow me up like they did when I was an innocent undergrad that no idea that infertility would rock her world some ten or so years later.

So I apologize for, yet again, being the Debbie Downer of the infertility bloggers, but if I kept this post in any longer I would have to find a cliff to jump off of.