My husband has depression. There, I’ve said it and I’m now waiting for the sky to fall in or the end of the world or whatever other awful thing is supposed to happen if we admit to depression.
Not surprisingly the world continues to turn.
My husband has had depression for over five years. He was diagnosed only 18 months ago but during the last five years I have had to learn how to live with someone with an illness that makes them unpredictable and selfish. I walk on eggshells in my own home constantly and yet I am also the one who has to support him through this illness. I have read everything there is to do with supporting some one with depression, what to say, what not to say, how to behave, how not to behave. I am physically and emotionally drained.
I watch my husband struggle on a daily basis with an illness that nearly destroyed our marriage, with an illness that he is so scared of passing on to our five year old son that he is very hard on him, an illness that to be quite frank, has nearly killed him.
Why stay with him you may ask? My husband is a kind, fun and generous man. I still get to be with that man on the good days and I love him very much.
Depression has not made my husband weak. He holds down a very successful job and has a brilliant mind. Depression has instead made my husband emotionally draining for his loved ones. That’s the support he needs from us and that’s what we can do to help him.
But who helps us? I have looked for support groups and can find none. So here is my blog. I’m a simple, happy sole and if my words can help one other hidden supporter then I have done something amazing. We aren’t recognised as carers but we live with something everyday that can overwhelm and drain us, a hidden group doing their best to keep smiling.