O
Ophelia23
Guest
I am not seeking advice. Merely a place to put my thoughts and hopes, and perhaps seeking some prayers as well. 
Well friends, I have finally gotten to the point where I am ready to meet with someone to discuss my home life. I am a jumble of nervous and eager all at the same time. My husband’s anger and depression has been getting the best of him lately, to the point that it is getting the best of me, too. When I am out with my good friend, it is all I can talk about. When I am alone with my thoughts, it is all I can think about. I want to maintain my own level of joy and grace, even though my husband is struggling.
The tipping point for me was two-fold. First, he believes that I am not pulling my weight in the relationship and that I do nothing to support him. Hearing that nearly knocked the wind out of me, because I am trying so desperately to be supportive and loving even tough I constantly feel disrespected, hurt, and very small. If every ounce of my effort amounts to nothing in his eyes, I don’t know what I possible have. I can rationally look at this and understand that no, this is not him talking. I can look objectively at the situation and understand that yes, I am there for him and I am pulling my weight along with his, and I am doing what I can with what I have to hold him in my heart. But emotionally, it is a blow and I’m feeling a little bit like I’m made of straw. Too many more gusts of wind and I’m going to topple over.
Second, he has become more and more aggressive and has found ways to blame me for even deeper rooted struggles within himself. It is my fault that he and our oldest are struggling. It is my fault he has fallen into depression in the first place. It is my fault that his zipper is broken. I mean, it’s almost comical when I say it outside of the context. Of course these things are not my fault. How his mind finds ways to manipulate and warp reality until he is blameless is truly remarkable. But I miss having a friend in my home. Somebody that I can trust to not hurt me. I can’t trust that with him.
So, my hope with going to therapy is finding some sort of balance. I struggle to draw the lines between his depression and my well-being, or between his depression and just basic bad behavior. I feel like the lines are constantly shifting, and that they are hazy and unclear. I look around me and see muddy water, no clarity. I meet with the therapist next Thursday. I pray that I begin to find clarity and the tools to better help, love and support my husband.
Well friends, I have finally gotten to the point where I am ready to meet with someone to discuss my home life. I am a jumble of nervous and eager all at the same time. My husband’s anger and depression has been getting the best of him lately, to the point that it is getting the best of me, too. When I am out with my good friend, it is all I can talk about. When I am alone with my thoughts, it is all I can think about. I want to maintain my own level of joy and grace, even though my husband is struggling.
The tipping point for me was two-fold. First, he believes that I am not pulling my weight in the relationship and that I do nothing to support him. Hearing that nearly knocked the wind out of me, because I am trying so desperately to be supportive and loving even tough I constantly feel disrespected, hurt, and very small. If every ounce of my effort amounts to nothing in his eyes, I don’t know what I possible have. I can rationally look at this and understand that no, this is not him talking. I can look objectively at the situation and understand that yes, I am there for him and I am pulling my weight along with his, and I am doing what I can with what I have to hold him in my heart. But emotionally, it is a blow and I’m feeling a little bit like I’m made of straw. Too many more gusts of wind and I’m going to topple over.
Second, he has become more and more aggressive and has found ways to blame me for even deeper rooted struggles within himself. It is my fault that he and our oldest are struggling. It is my fault he has fallen into depression in the first place. It is my fault that his zipper is broken. I mean, it’s almost comical when I say it outside of the context. Of course these things are not my fault. How his mind finds ways to manipulate and warp reality until he is blameless is truly remarkable. But I miss having a friend in my home. Somebody that I can trust to not hurt me. I can’t trust that with him.
So, my hope with going to therapy is finding some sort of balance. I struggle to draw the lines between his depression and my well-being, or between his depression and just basic bad behavior. I feel like the lines are constantly shifting, and that they are hazy and unclear. I look around me and see muddy water, no clarity. I meet with the therapist next Thursday. I pray that I begin to find clarity and the tools to better help, love and support my husband.