I make no secret of the fact that I have dealt with depression for much of my adult life. What I feel like I’ve ignored for that entire time is the fact that not only am I depressed, but because of that, I live in what I call a “depressed marriage,” meaning that I’m not the only one living with this diagnosis, my husband also has to live with my depression. Weeks like the one we’re just coming out of make me appreciate my husband that much more and realize how truly blessed I am to have him by my side in a time when many spouses hit a breaking point with the issues and opt for divorce.
For the most part, our marriage is like many others. We have our struggles, but in the past year, we’ve learned to deal with those to a point where the good times outweigh the bad. The problem is that with my depression, there are times when I get paranoid that I’m going to start a fight by bringing up the things that are bothering me that I bottle them inside until I hit a breaking point.
Eventually, I hit that point, and this week happens. What starts as frustration over wanting a larger desk turns into feeling like I don’t have enough help around the house, which leads to another thing and another thing and another thing until I get to the point where I have no clue why I’m even mad or what set me off to begin with.
I feel blessed to have a husband who understands that this isn’t something I want to do. He doesn’t excuse it, but he does forgive me. This time, he came to me as I sat in our dark living room sobbing, told me to let go of the anger and offered to come back to watch TV with me until I fell asleep. In a twisted way, that was one of the most touching moments of our marriage, when he moved past the anger and hurt I would imagine he felt and helped me get back to a more emotionally healthy place.
It can’t be easy being married to me and I thank God for bringing me someone who has grown with me and stands beside me, even if it means he has to live with depression as well.