Greg

I’ve been reading this book.
How to Cope with a Depressed Spouse.
It, uh, it doesn’t really help much,
but it’s all I’ve got.
No, that’s not true.
He’s all I’ve got.
The book is all I’ve got to help me help him.

You know, it tells you—the book, I mean—
the book tells you that depressed people
often draw the people they love
into their illness.
I highlighted that.
Not because it’s true, just to remind myself
how untrue it is.
Because it’s the opposite.
He’s not drawing the people he loves
into his illness,
I’m drawing his illness into my love.

The book says it’s normal to find yourself
wondering if you still love your depressed spouse.
I highlighted that, too.
Because I love him more than I did
the day I married him.
Because it’s the times he calls himself weak
that I see how strong he is.
How he is stuck in darkness that has left him blind,
caught in the undertow of a roiling black sea
while I am the lighthouse,
the life raft,
the rescue team.

Because I tell him that those thoughts are not real,
they are parasitic vines wrapping around his mind,
but as long as I am there,
they will not twist themselves into a noose.
Because the nights I have to
hide the matches
hide the lighter
keep him away from the fireplace and the stove,
I hold him
and read his scars like Braille,
I tell him what they say.

I’m here.
I love you.
I don’t care if you need to stay up
crying all night long,
I will stay with you.
There’s nothing you can ever do
to lose my love.
I will protect you until you die,
and even after, I will still protect you.
I am stronger than Depression
and I am braver than Loneliness
and nothing will ever exhaust me.

Pretty soon I’ll have the whole book highlighted.
Because there is no manual for
How To Cope With A Depressed Spouse.
And it’s not coping, anyway.
It’s living.
It’s loving.
It’s surviving.
Together.
And I don’t need a book for that.

—Talea Rebbom - How To Cope With A Depressed Spouse 

(Source: woodr0ts)