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Geneseo Republic - Geneseo, IL
What my husband’s depression means for the rest of us
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By simplyfaithful
Aug. 4, 2013 5:16 p.m.



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Can I tell you something about living with someone with depression? Can you draw your chair closer so I can whisper?

When one family member battles depression it becomes a battle for everyone else, too.

My husband isn’t cranky or blue. He isn’t even a glass-half-empty guy. But he does have bad days where dishes don’t get done and laundry doesn’t get put away. Where it’s hard to pull himself out of bed. Where he fusses and starts a fight before we see his family for the holidays. Where he just doesn’t have the energy for the fun day we had planned.

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It makes the regular roller coaster of life have even more highs and lows, more tight curves where you feel slammed against the side of the coaster. And sometimes it makes it hard to catch your breath.

We show up late to events and appointments. We miss church. We limit the number of activities through the week – just to give us more margin, a chance to catch up if we need it.

It’s hard on all of us, but we’re all on this ride together. Brian is doing what he can. He’s learning more about the illness, getting treatment and changing years of habits. And the rest of us?

We love him.

We love him in his brokenness just as he loves us in our brokenness.

Dealing with depression or cancer or diabetes is tough but that’s what love is made for. It wasn’t meant to sell greeting cards, it was meant to greet us in our time of greatest need.

When my daddy was dying of heart failure in a hospital room, Brian drove 1,200 miles to be with me and we had only been dating three weeks. And when we took foster parent classes and they told us all the behavioral challenges we might expect, I asked Brian if he was sure he wanted to do this because I had been the one pushing for adoption. His answer: God tells us to take care of the widows and the orphans, and he doesn’t say to do it only if it’s easy.

Is your chair still close?

This battle that we’re fighting? It’s OK. Love wins.

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