Isn't that fun? Does Allie Brosh make comics for this? Or do I just mirror them and put them together? No mainpage, FWIW.

When I search for a variation of "both spouses depression" on GT, there's not a lot that pops up. For Google, there's not much on the first page either (you expect me to go to the second page? Have you forgotten that (see Power Ranger)?

In the shallow search, I saw some faith website and Focus on the Family which made me run for the border of liberal sanity and from the "group that made my ex-best friend think he was schizophrenic instead of gay" ledge. So, I write this.

Brief backstory for whatever it's worth (yes, that's my overall mood). Husband and I love each other very much and have unwillingly lived in different cities for 9 or so months. He comes back to Chicago on the weekends. I have all the animals here. He's staying with a close friend and her animals during the week. I have depression and anxiety, treatment and therapy for over 10 years. Recently think I'm ADHD and having chemical issues and mad an appointment for my doctor (in the other city) for March. Husband has depression, takes meds via GP and therapist once a month. TL:DR


Husband knows I go on GT but if he searches this out (which he never has before), it'd be better than if I'd vented on Twitter or Facebook.

He's described his state as "clinically exhausted" since at least December. Shortly after Christmas, he was diagnosed (a "let's see if this is it" diagnosis) with IBS. Since then, he's developed a cough.... a cough that's so severe that when it was combined with anxiety, it resulted in an incident. An incident with the poopy. Poopy in the pants.


He waited till the weekend to tell me about it which kinda hurt. He did it because I was having problems as well and he didn't want to add onto them which of course it did because he didn't tell me and I felt guilty (see Willow).


But anyways. So that's pretty severe. And not something I disclose lightly. If I shit my pants, I'd be in a doctor's office the next day going "EMERGENCY! WTF IS GOING ON??? DO EVERYTHING YOU POSSIBLY CAN TO FIX MY ASS BECAUSE THIS IS NOT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENS!" Husband? Not so much.

Today? I didn't have a great day. I have intrusive thoughts that "logically" blast myself for sucking SOOOOO much that... well, that's it. I've cut off suicide and most self-harm b.s. for myself so thoughts like that just degrade the quality of the life that I have. "You think you suck? Well, get ready for life where you think you suck that much."





Drinking old Gloog. This might get bad.

I call Husband. He's had... a bad day. Extreme anxiety and badness at work. He's been having a horrible time on the job. Probably worse than he's telling me and worse than I want to hear. His job treats him fine, it's the time he spends thinking, "I can't see myself doing this for the rest of my life." But worse, I guess. It's a lot about his own expectations of himself or so I'm telling myself until he wants to talk about a total career change.


He's not good. He's not a danger to himself or others. He wishes he could go into a hospital just for the REST. Of course, he's never been in a hospital for depression but you get the idea.

He's seeing his GP tomorrow. I... I felt nothing. I felt everything. I cried when he told me his mother said, "we just need to get you down there [Chicago]" since she nearly took my head off when he told her we were moving. I wanted to cut myself (which I don't do). I wanted to be there. I ached when he said that he thinks it'd be horrible if we/I'd move back to where he works. I was already starting into an anxiety thing (yawning, lack of oxygen, thoughts careening, etc) but he short circuited me (which I think is actually a ADHD symptom).


Normal bad coping skills didn't interest me. Eating? Whatever. I could eat but not binge. It'd just be a slight waste of money but not do me in or anything. Drink? Meh. Not going to solve anything and doesn't sound appealing.

So what am I doing? I bought a bottle of wine at the downstairs store and drinking leftover gloog. Food? Ordered from a local place but a reasonable amount that wasn't binge crazy worthy. None of it's solving anything but I didn't expect it to. It's... something to do right now. Maybe I'm in the middle of moving on from the old coping mechs.



I feel sad. Sad for Husband. I want to be where he is. He apologized over and over and I said "You have nothing to apologize for" over and over again. I wanted to move back to WI immediately until he said that he wouldn't want that to happen. But part of me still wanted it. He had an improptu feeling that he told his friend of offering me a DIVORCE so he would only screw up his own life and not mine (friend and I had same opinion of "none of that is every going to happen").

He explained... so defensively... how he wrote a list of things to be positive about. How he tried to be positive. Be optimistic (a previous problem in this horrible long distance situation). It nearly killed me. Like a kid explaining how he had done everything right after something went horribly wrong (that was out of his control). So urgent. So eager to defend his actions made against what was warring in his head. He had tried to not shake and not bite his fingers. He had tried not to cry and feel horrible. He had tried to do everything right.


I don't know if it affects me (effect/affects, whatever FML) because it's almost a mirror of my own actions. But I ache. I ache and I also feel nothing. Maybe that's why I'm drinking right now... to feel something different even though I know it's just alcohol.

If I was a therapist, I'd be fine with the amount of detachment I feel. I guess, it's mixed with immense emotion. I feel for him incredibly but know the role of therapist, so I just fall into that.

I feel nothing and everything. My heart is atrohpied and overflowing.

Tomorrow, I'll wake up and poke around for a few hours until I go to nanny. Husband will call me and tell me how his appointment went. I will listen and be encouraging and take things as they come for both him and me. I will go to woof and wine tomorrow at the local pet supplies shop and not know how to converse with people besides asking them about their own lives.


I apologize to his/our cats because he needs them and yet they're with me.

I want to "solve his problem" yet know how that is never possible with depression and anxiety.

p.s. I'm going to sleep so I'll comment this morning.

p.p.s. Fuck people who don't read shit like this. Of course, I'm that person on a lot of occasions but still. Also, how's Lizhaa doing?