Ok, I typed out my big long life sob story. But it detracts from the problem I need help with now. I really need help from the guys here, to help understand. You wouldn’t think that a person recovering from depression… could be unsympathetic to another person they love, developing depression. But he just told me last night. And I’m ANGRY. Here’s why…
I met a guy when I was 18 and dated him. We became great friends, inseparable, dependant on each other. We were always all over each other too. I couldn’t wait for our wedding, then we could really be with eachother, and I could be married and be such a great, beautiful, talented housewife even his
friends would be envious. I do think it’s probably key to mention that he nudged me to betray myself and my body, and without any thought to injury of myself, pressured me to do things for him without proper care, that I will probably live with for the rest of my life. (Which sadly, only fueled my belief that I was the best girlfriend in the world! I did that for him, I mean, what more could a man want then me! Oh I knew he would be really happy having me, I was the best he could hope for.)
We got married. Sweet and romantic during the wedding. Went on the honeymoon in Prague. Nice, romantic somewhat. Got home, and it all changed. He changed to utter rejection, never wanting me at all, somehow believing that now I was ugly without makeup, I smelled horrific I guess, and he wouldn’t touch me if I wasn’t out of the shower. He hated kissing and hugging me. No amount of time, overtime and work and pay was enough. He was always pressuring me to get another job, get raises, get bonuses. Everything I did was wrong. His favorite joke… he
still does it some times, is when someone would praise me in public, maybe for how ‘sweet’ I was, or ‘pretty’, or ‘talented’… he’d always laugh sort of mean and say
“Ha. You want her? You can have her.” I was… unwanted by him. After everything I tried so hard for his approval. He and his friends would make fun of me and insult me. Not only did I have to do everything from the shopping, pay the bills, cook, clean, laundry and dishes, but I had to haul it up 3 flights of stairs, with increasingly bad (juvenile rheumatoid) arthritis that became worse with the weather.
When I became suicidal, I finally got help and was put on Effexor. My family was extremely worried about me. Shortly after I got married, the moved 1,000 miles away to a resort town, right on the beach. In warmer weather, which I was so happy for my mom to have, since she has fibromyalgia. Meanwhile they knew I could barely get out of bed with my arthritis bad from the snow and cold, and that he didn’t want to move, but wouldn’t allow me not to work either. That period of pressure, and wanting to be where sun was, warmth, happy nice people, instead of his mean friends, so bad, but being stuck there by my husband, who wasn’t even helping me do household stuff… it was horrible. I used to go in the bathroom at work and run and smash my face in the metal stall, five or six times, as hard as I could. (I’m sure we all have our stories like that. :/)
I finally had enough. My sister flew up, and we packed up the cat and left for a one month medical leave that February! It was freedom! Away from cloudy, snowy darkness, traffic and constant construction delays, to beautiful warm sunsets. And people who helped me with cooking and those other daily things. (The only way I was permitted to go, by my husband, was that I had a job lined up that I would be getting paid. So I was still working through it. Never allowed not to work, no not sick me. We depend on me and my income (even though he had a job, which he mostly played computer games with his boss while they waited for the network to break. It was also only 15 mins away from our home, whereas my job was 40 mins in traffic, and about to move to over an hour of a drive!)
The good thing was that our being apart for a few weeks appeared to make him realize how much he missed me. He called and blanketly apologized for “everything he ever did” and appeared to be really sorry. He promised that if I came back, he would be different. He’d help me a lot more, he’d let me do things like sing at karaoke (which he never let me do, because for some reason my talent embarrasses him.) We’d go on dates, find new friends that we nicer, all those things. But it was still snowy, and I was still in a flair up.
Making this long story shorter, HE came down for a ten day vacation in which at the time, he admitted that this area was pretty. He even went to work at the company my dad and I was working for (networks, communications), for that week in which they determined that they’d love to hire him. It was a dream. Those 10 days… he was the guy I remembered. He loved cuddling me again, and was agreeing to try living down here, to see if it made my arthritis better!
We moved down a month later. We have an 800sf apt above my parents house, that we live in rent free. We paid off our large credit debt in SIX MONTHS. My arthritis cleared up pretty much immediately, and certainly my depression was getting better. But his friends and family were so mad at him for moving away (for me…), his parents threw him out of his house disowning him. They wouldn’t even SAY goodbye to me… They called us selfish, that we only thought about ourselves. They tried to do things like buy me a COAT thinking it would cure my arthritis. It was nice, but of course it didn’t. So for the first time, my hubby did a completely selfless act.
It cost 800 to move, and after 3 months we got raises. His was what he considered
way “beneath” what he was worth. I was with my twin sister again (my other best friend), but it was just nice seeing the change in him. After two
horrible years… he actually started saying things “I love spending time with you.” But believe it or not, within two weeks of moving down… he developed shingles (for a month or more!) That was pretty tough for him. He was getting sick and more colds, even more than he was before. He immediately rejected everyone. He wouldn’t accept any invitations for parties, or going out to the movies, out to dinner. All he did was stay up there and play computer games. He did fish on our lake a few times (until he had a pretty awful fishing lure accident. Those bass in there are
mean! *lol*). But he’d only leave our apt. aside from work, maybe twice a week. And that was only for church. He decided within only 2 weeks of moving down here, to my paradise, that he hated it.
Ivan hit. Of all my luck, no hurricane here for thirty years, and then two months after arriving, we have to flee and hope our things made it. (they did.) But for some reason the hurricane really scared him. It still does. Apparently he feels like we’re sitting comparably, on a fault line in San Jose. Big One’s around the corner every day… (Even though New YORK got hit by Ivan too! ><)
Unfortunately, five months ago the job turned jerky and one of the bosses continued to harass him. When he was asked to do something potentially illegal (the software licenses were in the mail, but hadn’t arrived YET,) I finally agreed to let him quit the job. I figured all the stress was making him sick. I
trusted him to look for another job, to do his best and find another one. Well you already know the story. We’re arriving at six months of him not working. He still hasn’t ‘found’ a job. Why? Because aside from perusing online… the job he wants is back in Michigan. (Meanwhile, we are solely dependant on my income! The last thing I wanted. It barely was enough for a while to get buy. Now it’s NOT, and we’re
not making ends meet.
) But it’s my fault, because I went on a health plan that requires I buy organic, and supplements and things that are good for my health.
I’m actually at the best health I’ve ever been. I dropped 27.5 lbs so far, in 3 months. (And still going!
) I don’t eat the things I used to be addicted to, like ketchup, that he used to try and not allow me to eat. I drink water, I exercise, I take care of my arthritis. And an amazing thing happened during this year I’ve been down here. My depression left. Even my doctor admitted the only reason I was still on Effexor, was because of those awful withdrawal symptoms. But why be on it, when you don’t have to! (I mean, it’s expensive!)
So what has he been doing for the past five and a half months you might ask? He’s been sleeping in. Playing World of Warcraft and other computer games all day. Playing with the cat. Throwing in a load of laundry. Watching TV. Living a life SO EASY and stress free, you’d think he’d be thanking his lucky stars. He’s
not though. He finally came out last night and says he’s depressed. I can’t convince him to see anyone about it though. He says he misses his (lousy, good for nothing “friends”). He misses his family, who threw him out, locked us out, left us stranded at the wedding we flew back to attend with them a few months ago. He’s
NOT GETTING ANOTHER JOB HERE, BECAUSE HE ONLY WANTS THE JOB IN Michigan. He didn’t give it his best! He pretended like he was trying to get hired, meanwhile he never did anything TO get hired. He didn’t even take all this time to go visit with the family he misses so much.
I was almost over it! My happiness = HIS depression. Vice versa!!! 
