What’s it like living with someone who’s depressed?
The hardest thing I’ve found about living with someone who suffers from depression is that a depressive episode can seem to come from absolutely nowhere.
Over the years, I’ve become better at understanding the triggers and identifying the warning signs, but every now and then, I’ll be bumbling along thinking that everything is pretty good and then I’ll be blindsided by my husband being overcome by a sudden and (to me) inexplicable dose of depression.
Initially, it took me quite a while to realise that he might be depressed. The symptoms sort of crept up on him so it wasn’t really obvious in the beginning. He would get quite angry and frustrated at the most minor things — like me not putting my used coffee cups in the dishwasher, for example. He would be angry with me, angry at other people, and angry about certain situations. Increasingly, the anger he displayed really wasn’t commensurate with whatever had provoked his ire.
At the same time, he became increasingly withdrawn — preferring the comfort of the sofa to almost any social engagement. He withdrew from me, his friends and his family. He was also very sad, tearful and emotional. To be clear, this was completely out of character for Nick; he had always been very sociable, outgoing, joyful, empathetic and full of humour. He didn’t really open up and tell me what was going on in his head but I could tell he wasn’t in a good place.
When I did finally suggest that he might be suffering from depression he was quite upset that this might be the case. I thought he might be relieved to name it but I don’t think that’s how he felt at the beginning. I think it was almost like having another stick with which to beat himself; almost as if his perceived failures were compounded by a potential diagnosis.
One thing that might sound a bit strange is that even after he was diagnosed and I knew he was depressed, it took me a while to realise just how seriously it was affecting him. I hadn’t understood just how debilitating and devastating depression could be.
I had thought that there was quite a big leap between ‘feeling depressed’ and ‘feeling suicidal’ so it came as a big shock to hear that he was having suicidal thoughts. I also know that there’s a difference between having suicidal thoughts and wanting to act on them, but even so, hearing the person you love saying that they’ve been thinking about killing themselves, is completely terrifying and deeply upsetting. But, obviously, it’s about a million times better to know that he’s having suicidal thoughts than to be kept in the dark.
(If you are having suicidal thoughts and you haven’t told anyone, please please please tell someone you love. I am sure they love you and want to help you but they just might not understand how you’re feeling so you need to let them know. If you feel like you might harm yourself please call the Samaritans straightaway on 116 123.)
I also thought that his depression would be a bit more transitory; he’d been going through a pretty horrendous legal battle and at the time I thought his depression was an almost inevitable response to what was an incredibly stressful situation. Naively, I thought that once the legal issue was resolved, he would more or less return to his old self. But when, months after the legal battle had finished, he was still feeling awful, I realised that the trauma of that experience had left an indelible mark. He had already been diagnosed with depression by that point but it wasn’t until the months passed, and the legal battle receded into the distance, and the depression remained very strongly in the present, that it became clear that the depression wasn’t going anywhere and that he was going to need better coping mechanisms and more professional help.
One of the hardest things about seeing the person you love suffer from depression is knowing (or more accurately, not knowing) what to say.
The person you love is crying and upset and all you want to do is to make things better but sometimes there isn’t really anything you can do to take away the pain, the self-loathing or the despair. Even at the time, the things I said sounded pretty trite.
Having said that, I don’t think there is a perfect thing you can say to someone who’s waylaid by depression. I think all you can do is let them know that you love them, you want to help them, and that you’ll be with them every step of the way while they help themselves or get the help they need. But it can be really hard being consigned to the sidelines, observing and feeling powerless to really change anything.
Of course there might be practical things one can do to help — like pay an unpaid bill, or book an appointment with a therapist, or help someone to work out a strategy for dealing with a difficult situation, or keeping someone company while they’re trying to break bad habits and build healthier new ones like going to exercise classes or not drinking etc. etc. — which is why it’s so important to tell someone if you’re feeling depressed or stressed or like you can’t cope. There are probably lots of practical things that your friends/ family / partner can help you with. But when I say that I sometimes feel powerless to help, I’m not really talking about practical things I can do, I’m really talking about things on an emotional level.
You can tell someone you think they’re the most amazing person in the world, but if they’re crippled by low self-esteem and self-loathing or conditioned to think that they’re worthless, they’re unlikely to believe anything you say — no matter how rational, objective, persuasive and convincing you think you’re being.
Looking back, what are the things I wish I could have done differently? I wish I’d spoken to his friends and family sooner about how unwell he was. I think I didn’t feel it was my place to say, but in hindsight, that wasn’t the right approach for our specific situation. I think it’s hard for others to really know what’s going on, so best to be explicit and give people the opportunity to help and show their support.
The other thing we did which was really helpful and I wish we’d done earlier, was to go to a couples’ therapist for a few sessions. This helped give us a vocabulary for talking about how we’re feeling and has been really important in terms of helping us to communicate openly and honestly — which is so important for me to know what’s going on with Nick but also for Nick to know that he can tell me what’s going on for him (obviously this is a work in progress, and requires effort, patience and goodwill, but in our case, I’d say it’s been really beneficial).
Over the years, I’ve become better at identifying the symptoms of depression but I’ve also started to understand what Nick can do to make himself feel better and to keep the depression at bay. If I’m honest, I do keep an eye out. When he doesn’t exercise for a few days or has a few drinks for two or three days on the trot he does tend to start feeling a bit low. So I check in with him and gently remind him about all the good things (eating healthily, exercising daily, drinking occasionally) which make a difference. If you can imagine, this is less me nagging, and more part of an ongoing conversation about mental wellbeing in the household. But in the main, he is a master of his own destiny and I’m very lucky that he is so proactive, understands his depression and makes a lot of effort to help himself and get the help he needs when he needs it.
So what have I learnt and what am I still learning? I know I can’t control the situation, I’m not responsible for how he’s feeling and I can’t wish away the depression — no matter how much I’d like to.
I try to be as understanding and supportive as I can but I’m no saint. Sometimes it’s hard. But I think the most reassuring thing I can do is allay Nick’s fears that I somehow love him less or think less of him because he’s depressed.
To me, such thinking is just the depression speaking and I cannot express strongly enough how much this is not the case. I love him loads. If you’re worried about telling someone you think you’re unwell because you think it might change their opinion of you, please put those thoughts to one side and speak out, it’s the beginning of the road to recovery.
Originally published at dprsd.co.uk on October 29, 2018.
