Depression in the couple
Depression is a dirty, misunderstood and shameful disease for those who experience it. I paid the price for two years, it almost cost me a lot of things; health certainly, the desire to breathe too, but also my social and love life. Know that it is difficult for me to write this article but that I have been holding on to it for a few years now because it is essential that you do not feel alone if you are in this case. Depression, it ravages you but we can get out of it!
I was always the little clown with the friends, always the little ray of sunshine of the family, the one who succeeded brilliantly academically, the one who had no problems. Well, that’s what I wanted to show so I wouldn’t worry. And then, by dint of always displaying a smile while in the background, nothing goes, we fart a lead.
That’s more or less what happened to me. I say “more or less” because this rotten disease landed one fine morning for no good reason, like that, all at once. No cause or motive.
How it started (Depression in the couple)
Every depression is different, mine manifested itself very clearly because it had physical and visible consequences. I had my first anxiety attack on the plane to go to Barcelona with my darling and friends, several years ago now. I didn’t know what it was: I couldn’t breathe, I had sudden diarrhea and vomiting, sweating…
I spent almost a whole week having seizures but I didn’t know what it was. The only thing I was sure of was that I was getting everyone drunk. As I write, the bad memories come back and they always hurt.
The crises faded a little and then I went back to business school, to Bachelor’s degree. From day one, a huge crisis occurred in the subway and then in class. From that day on, I associated school with anxiety. Every day I went to the toilet between 5 and 8 times in the morning, I constantly had a stomach ache, I trembled everywhere and regularly felt unwell.
I then went on a work-study program: I was studying + I was working 3 days a week in a company. Same fight: daily anxiety attacks. Diarrhea, vomiting, malaise, sweating… My daily life. The horror lasted two years.
I always forced myself to show the biggest smile, no one could have suspected that I was going badly. Yet, I cried every morning, I wanted to die every moment, I cried in the toilet during the day, I was just waiting for one thing: to go home to get in the dark and sleep. If I could have slept all my life I would have done it. But I had to pocket my Master 2 and finish my alternation.
It took me a while to understand that it was depression. The intense and daily stomach aches made me believe in a chronic disease. At 22, I had to do a colonoscopy… Everything was in order… Everything was in my head. And fuck, the psychological can play so much on the physical!. Depression in the couple
I will always remember a discomfort I made on line 13 of the Paris metro one morning, during rush hour. The firefighters had disembarked, put me on a stretcher and brought me to the hospital. That morning, I felt more helpless and lonely than ever.
Depression in my relationship
My guy was also helpless, feeling helpless. For a long time, I blamed him. I wanted him to do “more”, to console me, to be there for me. And then I understood that I was the only one able to get out of there. For a long time, I found him mean, incomprehensible and distant. The worse I was, the further away he was.
That famous morning when I fell into apples in the subway and went to the hospital, I called him to come… It was two metro stops away. He said, “Are you in the hospital? Okay, call me when it’s getting better.” I resented him a lot and then I understood that he was protecting himself and that he was right! We would both have been depressed… There had to be one of us who keeps his head above water.
I needed his strength and positive energy. If he had always been in my sense, to sympathize and complain, I do not think I would be where I am today. (Depression in the couple)
I doubted my love for him because, when you are sick, you always doubt everything: I knew I loved him but I had the impression that he “loved me badly”. Basically, I wanted to change it, I wanted it different. While it is me who should have been! Living with a depressed person is a more than complex fight because you have to hold on so as not to sink with the other. We must not relativize suffering without complaining about the other… Complex I said.
Thus, for two years, T. had to suffer my anxiety attacks, my discomforts, my nights in the hospital, my medical examinations, my crying, my aggressiveness, my doubts. And he stayed.
If you are in this case, never blame your spouse for not understanding your illness. No one can understand depression until they have experienced it, so much the better if they don’t understand! The whole thing is that he is present, without making your nurse.
I know very well that when we are in depression we have an immense expectation of the other: we would like him more tender, more cuddly, more communicative … But are we ourselves? No.
Remedies (Depression in the couple)
There is no miracle method, but I can tell you that when we finally stop being in denial and putting the cause of our depression on past situations or the behaviors of our loved ones, we move towards the exit. Understanding that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, admitting to myself that I was sick, was the first key.
I also forced myself to continue to see people, even though I also cancelled a lot of birthdays, parties and even weddings because, just thinking about it, I was falling into apples.
I took charge of myself and went to see a psychiatrist… I was tested several anti-depressants (Prozac, Seroplex, Fluvoxamine…). Nothing helped. I had of course in addition the of anxiolytics like Xanax and Lexomil, which were impregnable for me (they made me sleep all day). For me anxiolytics are ways to die for a few hours. No cure. Then I met a solid gold psychiatrist with whom I did a long therapy: I talked a lot.
I explained to him the fear I had of taking medication (following a family history of depression). She understood this and did not mention the word “medicine” to me for many months. Until the day when my dark ideas came back a little too brutally. She advised me Seropram as an antidepressant and Lysanxia as an anxiolytic. (Before all this, I had tried all the gentle methods possible and unimaginable). The treatment worked. I took Lysanxia only in case of a very, very big seizure and Seropram every day, for about nine months.
(Depression in the couple)
I will never be able to say which of the egg or the chicken allowed me to get out of there. The drugs did not cure me, they allowed me to survive. And by dint of survival, I gradually returned to life. To have desires: I wanted to go to the restaurant, to the cinema, on vacation, without being afraid. I laughed again, with a good heart, without pretending.
The joy of living has regained my heart over time. The better I was, the more T. was there for me, again caring and tender. Getting better, that was the cure. So simple to say and read…
I still have anxiety attacks, but it has nothing to do with it before. Today, I know how to manage them and they no longer scare me. T. and I came out stronger and this ordeal only bound us more.
I will end up telling you never to read reviews on the internet (even if you are reading my story), do not rely on the stories of others, each story is different, each depression is also different. The only advice I have to give you is not to blame your loved ones who are also suffering, not to live in the past and not to blame your illness on others.
I advise you to accept it and live with it, to force yourself to do activities, to leave your home. I know that agoraphobia is never far away in this kind of situation and I have suffered enormously from it. But by forcing ourselves, we manage to do things that we thought we could not do. Write, shout, talk, go see someone, get help from a neutral person and don’t wait for your spouse to nurse.
The exit is not far away, I promise you. Believe it!
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