Just In Time For Valentine’s Day: The Suckiest Wife Ever
Yeah, hi. That’s me. I know I’ve been away for a while, but what better occasion for a return than to tell the world just how horrible a person I am?
My bipolar husband, despite doing all the right things, has been deep, deep, deep in an atypical (for him) depressive cycle for at least the last six months. It’s actually probably lasted longer, but that’s about how long it’s been debilitating to the point that he can’t work or maintain normal function. I won’t go into details about everything that’s been tried for him so far, but let’s just say it’s been a LOT. And that he has cooperated whole-heartedly with every treatment, regardless of how horrible the side-effects may be, because he wants his life back. Badly.
You know, depression has never been the bugaboo for us. It’s always been the threat of a manic episode that loomed nearby, and kept us ever-vigilant for the slightest symptoms and early-warning signs. It’s mania that has scared the stuffing out of us both, because we both know that a good, strong florid mania is capable of ruining our marriage and our family, despite whatever good intentions we may have. Mania has always been, for us, the Other in our marriage–a beast to fight and fear. I even used to joke, “Where is the other pole in this bipolar disorder? I think we could use a swing toward depression right now!”
Ha, ha. It’s not funny any more. I am so sorry, but I really had no idea. I thought I did, which now is very nearly hilarious–I thought I “got it.” I didn’t.
I did not anticipate, in my wildest dreams, the depth, the blackness, the despair of this depression. That it could affect my brilliant spouse’s cognitive abilities and physical coordination. It’s like a malicious, transient form of brain damage, really, and stunning in its power.
And my response to it has been, well…less than stellar, at least lately. I have been so wrapped up, in the years since the diagnosis, in watching for and combating the manic side of the spectrum, that the depression caught me completely flat-footed. My troops were all amassed at the Hypomanic Border, and the few straggling sentries and scouts who brought reports from Depressive Kingdom were brushed off as insignificant, or addled. If only I’d known.
Who knew–turns out that my moods cycle, too. And that cycle, in regard to my mentally ill spouse, appears to go something like this: Patience, understanding, patience, kindness, patience, concern, patience, frustration, worry, frustration, resentment, impatience, fear, deep frustration, RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND DISEMBOWEL YOU WITH UNKIND WORDS. Nice, huh? I honestly, and truly suck.
That’s right–when a loved one is down lower than you can even imagine being, why not give him a good swift kick, you know, as long as he’s down there? Go ahead, vent your spleen–after all, you have feelings, too, right? And you’ve bottled this up for so long, why save it for therapy? I’m sure that the person who is clinging to you like the only life-raft in a raging sea of misery won’t mind ONE BIT. Let him know just how displeased you are with this whole depression thing, because almost certainly he’s been doing it ON PURPOSE, and just needs to feel your wrath, resentment, and maybe even a smidgen of contempt, to snap right on out of it, get back to work, smile, and be happy! RIGHT?
I feel about two inches tall, and I’m so, so sorry. I wish that what I’d done was to recognize and appreciate the things that he is amazingly ABLE to do right now, even through a thick black fog. That is true courage, and I DO see it.
Going back to my best attempt at being positive (which is where I should’ve stayed all along, more’s the pity), we’ve pushed the doctors to make some fairly radical (for us) and frightening (for us) changes in medication regimen, and I can’t help but think that something’s going to happen soon. It may be too much, but at this point, anything different will be welcome, at least at first.
One of two mood stabilizers has been removed entirely, as has the benzodiazepine. This will be the first time since diagnosis without Depakote and Klonopin. This is terrifying. To exponentially enhance our trepidation, factor in a huge increase in anti-depressant dosage. Now, realize that this is exactly the time of year when the “ramping up” usually begins, and you have a real “YIKES” element going.
Of course, this is all pretty much what we asked for. Much the same way ECT jolts the brain out of a repetitive, destructive pattern, we’re hoping to shake up the med cocktail SO much, while at the same time hopefully harnessing some of that very manic energy that we normally fear so greatly every spring, that my dear husband’s brain will HAVE to let go, and emerge from the depths. I’m just hoping that we have time, once the climb begins in earnest, to get the lid on before it’s too late.
I’m also hoping to be less of a jerk about the whole thing.
February 11th, 2009 at 1:17 pm
my father was diagnosed with bipolar disorder over 20 years ago, we are kind of in the opposite boat, we are always worried about dad going into a depression it’s so hard for him to pull himself out of it and it always lasts so long. right now outside forces seem to be making it difficult for him to be able to get out of it, every time that it seems like he might be coming back around something changes at work and bam right back to depressionville.
Most times its hard to be positive, he gets upset at things that nobody can change and just fixcates on them, but you can’t tell him not to worry about it. He doesn’t have the ablity to stop his brain from worrying, even if he knows that it is not a problem that he has any control over. it gets very aggrivating and i find it hard to let that aggrivation out in a productive way. I have to keep reminding myself that all though staying positive is hard its the best thing I can do for him.
Good Luck:)
February 11th, 2009 at 4:42 pm
I haven’t lived with someone who has been suffering to the extent that you have, but you are going through this too. It’s really brave to write about this.
I hope you’re able to forgive yourself a little, and I wish you both the absolute best.
February 11th, 2009 at 5:59 pm
You should totally beat yourself up about not being perfect in the face of a monstrous stress, for sure.
No. I get your remorse for finally showing that you’d reached your limit momentarily, but slackmistress is right. This is happening to you, too, and Bella as well. You do the best you can, one day at a time, and if you run dry of compassion and caring from time to time, then that’s just what happens to fallible humans. Try to see that your needs get met, too, be forgiving of yourself, and do your best. No one can ask you for more.
February 11th, 2009 at 6:06 pm
Hey, I’ve missed you. I hope the meds shock does help. It sucks when you can’t control something so fundamental in your daily life. Wishing your family all the best.
February 12th, 2009 at 1:53 am
I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you do not suck. It is tremendously hard on your end of things, as hard, or harder perhaps, than on his end. Don’t beat yourself up. You are the most persevering, tenacious, PATIENT person ever because you have been by his side throughout it all. You deserve much more than a pat on the back. I’m hoping and praying that Alex comes out of this and is stable rather than manic. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know. I’m just down the road. Love you!
February 12th, 2009 at 12:24 pm
Ditto to what others said. Having experienced mild clinical depressions myself in my younger years, and having mood disorders running through my family, I have a hint (only a hint) of what you all are going through. If it helps at all–strangers out here are praying for you both.
And one more thing–your support and love for you husband just shines through every time you write about him, and I’m sure he feels that as rock-solid, underneath the depression.
February 12th, 2009 at 1:44 pm
We’re opposite — my wife so tends towards depression that all my antennae are tuned to “you should leave me” and not to manic or hypomanic energy — and it’s probably only a matter of time.
That being said, oh, honey, I hear you on the awfulness of depression. When my girl is severely depressed, she’s suicidal, and frankly, no one who’s not been down there can know just how terrifying and debilitating it can be to be the only hope that your loved one won’t die. After her last big episode (cross your fingers her meds keep working), I kind of had to hibernate for a while just to recover, myself. And I think there’s some ptsd in there for me, joy.
I understand losing it at him, even if it’s not what anyone would have chosen for that moment, you know? Yes, he’s in a very bad place. But so are you. And in my experience, people aren’t very supportive to the people supporting very depressed people.
Many hugs and understanding.
February 13th, 2009 at 2:17 am
you are human. you cannot expect someone to live closely with someone else for long periods of time and not snap sometimes. yes, he has been depressed but that doesn’t mean you are suddenly a robot with no feelings or faults. i think he knows, even in the depths of depression, you love him and how hard this is for you. don’t beat yourself- you are doing a good job.
February 13th, 2009 at 2:26 am
You’ve all made me feel better, and several of you have made me cry. Day to day life is really hard right now, and I’m scared of the changes that might be about to happen, and also scared that nothing will change. I do love my husband, and appreciate his effort in this ongoing struggle…and I realize that not only can I not feel what he’s going through, but I also don’t always recognize what it “looks like” from the outside.
I can’t begin to tell you all how much I value this community. I hope that Alex will be back to tell you himself that he’s doing better, and soon. Thanks again for being here.
February 13th, 2009 at 4:29 am
Oh, man. I can so identify. As someone with bipolar, let me tell you that no matter how screamy and impatient you became, your gathering it back together and starting over goes a long, long way. I never get over the feeling that I’m totally messing everything up and that Joe wishes he could leave me etc. When he finally loses his patience with me, it does hurt a lot. But I understand. Totally. And I still love him. And then we try again. xoxo
February 13th, 2009 at 3:36 pm
I suffer from chronic depression where I end up exactly like your husband. I have come out of a terrible cycle but yes it was brutal on both of us.
He lost his patience with me, but even at my worst a small sliver always understood how brutal it was for him. We were both trying our best through multiple medications, etc., against a hellish disease that is hard on both partners in a marriage.
You don’t suck. Alex doesn’t suck. Mental illness sucks, the difficulty in treating it sucks, and the lack of support and understanding out side the community sucks.
I hope Alex gets better soon, and take good care of yourself and Bella.
February 14th, 2009 at 4:01 pm
Belinda, having been the deeply depressed spouse without much, if any, support from my husband i can tell you that you are, truly, an amazing wife. Hold on tight and use your wonderful words to help you heal.
February 16th, 2009 at 12:00 am
Hey there. I have been where he is now. It is terrifying. I have faith that the docs will figure out the right cocktail.
I know it is a frustrating process. I am in the middle of a med change, and, as you know, the best the docs can do sometimes is “try this and see what happens”.
Hang in there my dear. Call me or e-mail me and we can get together (since I got fired and have plenty of spare time).
Love to you both.