OK, so apparently "antenatal depression" is a new invention, pregnant women used to Just Cope and Just Get On With It, so it's not a real illness. Fine. Whatever you call it, depression is bad enough, but mine seemed to be getting less frequent, and I thought I had it more or less under control. A rash assumption. Now in addition to the general exhaustion and misery and tearfulness and overwhelming sense of failure and uselessness, I've got the added sense of failure as a mother-to-be, the constant worry that I'm passing on toxic feelings (or bad body-chemistry or whatever it is that causes depression) to my child. And the knowledge that there's nothing I can do about it now: if I go to my doctor then maybe in 4-6 months' time if I'm really lucky I'll get to fill in some forms about whether or not I "strongly disagree" with some meaningless statements about emotions, and maybe even get to talk to someone who doesn't listen to me. Really, no. I have had enough of therapy. I am glad it helps some people. It doesn't help me.
The worst of it is the loneliness. I know, I know, how can I be lonely, there are people around me all the time... but nobody's there when I'm depressed, not properly, not meaningfully present. They're there, but they're on the other side of a soundproof window. Some of them knock on the glass and try to shout through, which is well-intentioned, and I do recognise it as a kind of emotional "We tried to deliver but you were out" ... but not much of the actual message gets through. Others just say "oh well, I can't get in, so I'll go and do something more fun instead" and walk away. Unfortunately that message gets through loud and clear.
I thought that was one of the reasons why people settled down with other people, so that they wouldn't have to feel so utterly alone when they were miserable. I wish I'd known it doesn't work.
I can't stop crying and there's nobody within earshot who cares. The only person who can hear isn't really a person yet, and I'm probably already ruining her life as well.