so much for a relaxing getaway

Mike and I were both pretty stressed out and angry last week. I had to work a lot and he didn't want to pay ridiculous amounts in interest for his new vehicle after the truck caught on fire a few weeks ago... at any rate we weren't happy. The best option that we had was to go to the trailer for the weekend! I've never exactly been the biggest fan of the trailer in the past because everything is just like at home only miniature. I just don't see the appeal. There are spiders everywhere and you get covered in mosquito bites and it is impossible to have a decent shower, I swear to Christ...
but I digress. To the trailer we go! We just can't wait to be away from our infuriating lives for a couple of days. We brought our ferret along for the trip, his cage collapsed in the trunk and him curled up in my lap for the car ride. First stop timmies! We're happy. We're singing along to Rod Stewart songs in the car and looking at each other with love in our eyes. It was great. When we get to the trailer it's 11 at night and everyone is asleep. We grab a drink and lay in the grass, looking at the stars and talking. No mosquitoes. So far I'm impressed!
We go to bed. That part was equally impressive.
We wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn, and I remember having this awful awful nightmare, so this neggs me out just a little bit. I dreamt that Mike was going to beat the shit out of me for spilling his glass of milk. I have a difficult time distinguishing between dream Mike and real Mike, so of course this anger gets transferred to him.
him: "what's a matter?"
me: "nothing..." *glare*
Anyway it doesn't take me long to get over the dream. It was right after my bowl of fruity cheerios that I realize I completely forgot to bring my anti-depressants. This, my friends, is what I like to call the beginning of the end.
All of Saturday I felt a little out of sorts. It was like I was the same person inside, but the outside world became uglier and crueler (this is my experience with depression, anyway) and so I withdraw a little. I was sitting outside with my feet up on the table reading my book, and Mike could see I was bothered so he told me to get up and come hug him. I tried getting up and in the process my foot swung across the table and knocked over a wine glass and all hell broke loose. I started crying like an idiot and mike got frustrated and stormed off, which of course made me react even worse. He left (after I demanded to be left alone) to hang out with the neighbours, Bring and Jeanette. They are his best friend's parents. So I sat alone for a while, did some dishes and calmed down. Then I went over, too. I cheered up pretty quickly. Later in the evening I withdrew once more, but overcame that eventually as well. I had more nightmares when i went to sleep.
The next day I just wasn't myself. This was Sunday. I couldn't wait to go home. When we finally got in the car I didn't say a word to Mike until we got back to my place, where I doubled my dosage and ordered a pizza.