Well, this may end up being a long post, who knows. To give a little background on my situation. I have severe depressive disorder(diagnosed) and could quite possibly be bipolar2(un-diagnosed).This year has been VERY bad for me so far. In Jan. I lost my job. Then without insurance I went off my meds because we couldn't afford them. My husband didn't know I was off meds. I had started posting some stuff on another board, and found some help. Then I came here. The people here are much nicer and far more helpful. The topic of one of my posts ran along the lines of 'how do I let my husband know how bad I am'. Well, I got a lot of good advice, such as putting my feelings into a letter for him. I wrote him a letter trying to explain how bad I felt and how bad my depression had gotten. Letting him know that I needed help but didn't know what to do. It was a really good letter. The problem was that whenever I worked up the courage to actually give it to him, I would chicken out the second he walked through the door. I have put him through so much over the last few years I was just overcome with fear over what his reactions might be. He has never really grasped the concept of illness v/s. being sad. And that is what this is, an illness. Well, over the weekend things were very strained between us. My step-daughter came over on Saturday after being at the beach for a week. It was great having her here because it was the only time my husband was actually nice to me. Then Sunday came. He was just a total a** all day. It seemed like I couldn't do anything right. By around 9pm I had had enough. I was carrying his clean laundry to the bedroom to put it away for him and he started yelling at me about
how I put his stuff away the last time. I threw all his clothes down the steps and told him to put them away himself then. Sounds kind of funny, I know. The truth is I had just lost it. I couldn't take it any more. We got into this huge fight. Namecalling, accusation, backbitting, the works. THEN IT CAME OUT. I almost couldn't belive what I was hearing come out of my own mouth. I was telling him the truth about
my condition. I told him I didn't know why I did the things I did. That what I have is an illness, not just feeling sad. That I had no control over it because I was off meds. Then, amongst many tears on both sides, I gave him the letter I had written. I think it finaly sunk in. He did a complete turn around. I love him so much. He wants to help me get the help I need. He said he was sorry for not realizing the trouble I am in. He's even calling his sister-in-law(a family psycologist) to get refferals on some good pdocs for me to see, no matter what the cost. He wants to do whatever he can/has to, to get me back on meds and get someone to talk to. I feel like such a fool for waiting SOOOOO long to talk to him. I cannot tell you how much of a relief it is to have his back on my side. I can only hope that with the right meds and the right pdoc I will be able to get my life back. I want my life back. It's taken me a very long time to write this post because I am still very emotional. I need to go take some tylenol now. My head hurts. I just had to tell someone my good news. There may just be a glimmer of light at the end of that tunnel after all. Thank you for reading all of this. It means a lot to me.
It's like by setting it free, part of it leaves my soul. That helps me survive. I will continue to survive.