October 18, 2020 § Leave a comment
‘You don’t say anything’ my wife said, and she meant I don’t say anything through out the day. Then she shook her head and said something to herself about my obsession with my (mental) illness.
When our son was a baby, just months old, my wife and he had to be with my parents for a while. In another city. I was here with a very demanding job.
My parents were convinced, I’ve no idea why, their baby grandson was not getting enough milk although my wife was lactating perfectly well. They made her take homeopathy pills so she would make more milk. Then my overzealous mother wanted to feed the two month old baby a millet gruel. My wife’s cousin, a paediatrician, warned against it as clearly the baby wouldn’t have been able to digest it. My mother also constantly fretted over why the baby wasn’t sleeping for long hours at a time and basically made my wife quite distraught.
I was oblivious to all this as somehow my wife and I never got to talk about it at the time. This was one of many times when I wasn’t there to help my wife. Incidents like this pushed her into the kind of depression that women get after child birth, but she bravely managed on her own, especially as she came back to live with me and I was still in my high pressure job.
She says she didn’t have the luxury of being depressed. Truth be told, I was too ignorant to even notice that she might be hurting and I certainly didn’t know anything about depression.
Today she sees me as wallowing in myself because it’s been three years nearly since I started having anxiety attacks and depression and I haven’t gotten any better.
I thought I was and a month ago gave up a medication which has left me trying to cope with debilitating anxiety on my own.
#anxiety #depression #relationships