Since the start of this year, I’ve found myself in a deep spiral of anxiety and depression, possibly the worst I’ve experienced in over a decade. During these tough times, I often brace myself for my partner to say, “I can’t handle this anymore,” and walk away.
Let’s be honest; I know that much of this is a mental battle. There’s not exactly a charm to depression. When I’m in its grip, I tend to withdraw. I become quiet, moody, and I avoid social gatherings. I end up spending too much time in bed. I’m not engaging or lively; instead, I’m just trying to get through each day, moving from one obligation to the next, smiling when necessary and speaking when unavoidable.
I tend to keep my feelings from my partner, Jenna. I worry she’ll see me as ungrateful, considering we have a good life: we have wonderful kids, a stable income, and supportive jobs. But even amidst this, I sometimes struggle to find joy.
It’s a common misconception that those who suffer from depression can’t find love or maintain relationships. In truth, many of us find and keep love despite our battles with mental health and past trauma.
I’m not a mental health professional; I’m just a guy with a loving partner and three great kids who fights an ongoing battle with depression. I have my good days as well as my bad ones; however, during my lowest points, I often fear that my struggles might drive Jenna away. This underlying sadness is rarely discussed, yet it amplifies the pain of dealing with mental illness.
Last weekend, everything came to a head. I had been feeling quite low for a while, and I knew Jenna was worried. Yet, I hesitated to talk to her about it for fear of burdening her. I found myself sitting at the edge of our bed, my head in my hands. Jenna emerged from the bathroom, and I didn’t want her to see me like this.
She placed her hand on my head and initiated a conversation. I opened up, revealing something I had never shared in our 16 years together: “I’m so afraid that my depression will drive a wedge between us. It terrifies me because you are the best thing in my life.”
Jenna took my left hand and removed my ring, reading the inscription inside: “Love you forever.” She had pointed this out before, but in that moment, it resonated deeply. This is what many of us with depression often need—a simple reassurance.
I won’t pretend that Jenna’s gesture instantly cured my depression or that I miraculously came out of my episode. However, it did alleviate my fears about her leaving me. I felt less unlovable, especially when she wrapped her arms around me on the bed. In that moment, I realized that connection is what I truly needed.
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Summary
Mental health struggles can create feelings of unlovability, especially during tough times. It’s important to communicate openly with partners, as reassurance can help alleviate fears and foster connection. Despite the challenges of depression, love and support from loved ones play a crucial role in navigating these difficult periods.