PYHO: DEPRESSION: WHEN IT HAPPENS TO SOMEONE YOU LOVE . . .

I'm pretty sure I've never talked about this on here before.  For a long time, I never talked to anyone about it.  It was too heartbreaking.  And scary.  But recently, someone I care very much about has been having the same type of problems, and it's brought all of the memories flooding back. 

In September of 1998, I lost the best friend I've ever had.  My Grandma.  She meant the world to me.  And then suddenly she was gone.  And I was lost.  Then, the next month, after trying for almost a year, we found out I was pregnant with Jason.  Then, the NEXT month, my husband started experiencing SEVERE depression.  A lot of things happened all at once, and I think it just HIT him, pretty hard.  And he kept spiraling out of control, and there was nothing I could do to help him.  I was working full-time in customer service.  And I went from answering almost 400 calls a day, to being lucky to answer 100.  Because I was on the phone with him.  All day.  Every day.  He was crying all of the time.  I was crying all of the time because I didn't know how to help him.

I have a degree in Psychology.  I'm supposed to KNOW, at least a little bit, what I should be doing for him.  But I didn't.  I was clueless.  And he didn't want anyone to know what was going on.  So for awhile, it was just him and I trying to fight this battle alone.  Finally, after a few weeks he decided that we needed to tell my parents, because *I* needed someone that I could go to.  So we told them.  And as usual, they were very supportive.  Of both of us.  The day I married Ryan, he became a part of their family.  No questions asked.  I'm sure they thought we weren't "right" for each other.  Every parent questions the person their child is going to marry, right?  But they knew I loved him, and that was all that mattered to them.  So he became their other son.  And they were SO great.  Not only were they worried about me, but they worried about him too.  I'm not sure I ever thanked them for that.  So just in case I didn't, thanks Mom and Dad.  You helped me more than you'll ever know.

He finally started meeting with a Psychiatrist, to put him on medicine, and a Psychologist to talk to her about his feelings.  And let me be clear, in my opinion, one does not work, without the other.  IF you have severe enough depression, you NEED medicine.  But you also need the counseling.  (Even if you think you're a "big tough man" that doesn't need to talk about your "feelings", YOU'RE WRONG!!!  It's your feelings that got you here in the first place).  He started "intense" group therapy that he went to every day for about 4 hours a day.  He continued meeting with the counselor, I met with the counselor, and he continued meeting with the Psychiatrist until they found the right combination of medicine to help him through it.  This process was still going on even after Jason was born.  There is no "quick fix."  (There was a lot more than that, but this post isn't really about the "act" of the depression, it's about what it's like for the other person).  

We had a really tough few months.  Months where I wondered if he was going to get out of bed the next day.  Months where I wondered if *I* was going to get out of bed the next day, because I was so drained.  And so exhausted.  And I went through all of the emotions.  For a long time, I was so ANGRY with him.  Here I was, pregnant with our first child.  This was supposed to be such a happy time.  And I couldn't really focus on it, because I was so worried about him.  How could he be so selfish?!  (I never said I was thinking rationally.  I WAS pregnant after all)!  And I was sad.  And I cried a lot.

I don't know what he went through.  And honestly, I don't WANT to know what he went through.  But he doesn't know what I went through either.  I know it's harder being on his end, but it's not easy being on my end.  I saw the person I love turning into someone I'd never seen before.  He's always been more of a "glass half empty" person than me, but this was more than that.  This was the glass is empty and I can never fill it again!  And I was useless.  I couldn't "fix" it.  And I should have been able to.  Why couldn't I fix it?  Why wasn't I smart enough and aware enough to see it coming?  He cried all the time.  I cried all the time.  I honestly didn't know how to help him.  I TRIED being supportive.  But then I just got frustrated.  I kept thinking, why can't he see the GOOD things?  Why does he have to keep focusing on the negative?

I am 40 years old.  And to this day, that experience is the hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life.  He talks every once in awhile about going off the medicine because he thinks he's better now.  And he may be.  But honestly?  I'm not willing to take that chance.  I can't, and I WON'T go through that again.  We KNOW what it's like.  And we know that him being on the medicine keeps it from happening.  So why tempt fate?  Why mess with a good thing?  I won't do it.  We have 3 kids now.  Three kids that are amazing and smart and funny and our whole world.  Why mess with that?  I already thought I was going to lose him once.  I'm not going to do it again.