Actually opening up about anything in the beginning was very difficult. There were times we'd talk on the phone and I wouldn't be able to say certain words or phrases because I was ashamed. I used to tell him to guess. I'd be able to only say so much and then the guessing games began. It always amazed me that he didn't go running in the opposite direction and that he cared enough to wait until I could finally say what was on my mind.
There are many days I feel guilty for having mental health issues because I know it affects him. I'm not an easy person to live with. Behind closed doors I am a different person. There are moments I just want to lie in bed or I'm super emotional and sobbing or I'm anxious and I lose my patience.
Last year when my suicidal thoughts were at their worst I truly believed that if I died he'd be set free from the misery I was causing. I feel like I cause so much trouble and I find myself apologizing over and over again. On our anniversary while we were eating breakfast I just blurted out I'm sorry. I don't always have the greatest filter and my mind went off on a very unhelpful trail. I was thinking of everything that I had done wrong. John is somewhat used to my blurtings out, but he cocked his head and asked, "where is this coming from?" I didn't really know how to respond because here I was again feeling bad on a day I'm supposed to be feeling good. On days that we want to have fun sometimes we have to actively say we are going to have a good day and we aren't going to let things bring us down. It's more for my sake, to remind myself I'm allowed to enjoy myself and I don't have to be bombarded with negative self talk. It's easier said than done.
Having a relationship (romantic or not) with someone who is struggling with a mental illness is very difficult. I almost said "can be difficult", but there's no reason to sugar coat it. It's difficult, period. Your spouse, partner, friend, family member, colleague, whoever it is wants to understand, but if they haven't gone through it they can only understand so much. And as the person with the problem, you can't even control it, even though you try so hard to be a good person. I remember a specific time last year John became frustrated when I wasn't really engaging in conversation. He was just trying to get something out of me, but I was so deep in my depression it wouldn't have mattered what he said, I wasn't going to respond to anything, especially if it seemed trivial. He asked why I wasn't talking and I just lost it. I screamed at him that I didn't care about the fucking lights in the living room.
I don't understand where the anger and rage come from. My therapist says it has to do with my anxiety, that it builds up and has nowhere to go and then BAM, I've exploded all over whoever is in my path. I feel so out of control when it happens. It's like I can see and hear myself doing and saying all these terrible things and I can't stop it, I just watch the train wreck happen. Then a lot of sobbing happens and later apologizing.
Obviously John and I aren't in a constant fight. I cherish the moments we laugh and do silly things that no one would understand but us. I cherish the long hugs and sweet kisses. I cherish date nights and his good cooking. I cherish going for our walks and stopping by the swingset in the park because I just have to swing.
I want to thank my family and friends for being so supportive and putting up with my good and bad days. We don't always see eye to eye and we don't always spend lots of time together, but in the end you're there when it matters. I'm here for anyone who needs a helping hand or a good listener. As I've said before, we don't have to do this on our own.
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