Midnight Musings in the Shadow of Depression

My husband wrestles with depression. I thought nothing could be worse than the heart attack he suffered three years ago, but I was wrong. This is much worse and seemingly without end. Recently diagnosed, he struggled to find the right combination of treatment.

I watched, as the disease appeared to take away something precious and leave behind the shell of the man I married, one just marking time.

One night, I gave up trying to sleep and slipped out of bed. I sat down at the computer and typed, releasing my thoughts and fears to a blank screen…

Nights are the worst. I wake up in a cold sweat and listen. Is he breathing? I tentatively slide my foot until I touch his. Yes, he is lying beside me. My heart races and my mind begins to whir. I can’t go back to sleep.

I rationalize why I can’t sleep: it’s typical for older people (surely I’m not that old) or, maybe a consequence of menopause. But, I know it is a residual effect from laying in bed in fear, listening as Mark roams the house in despair. Waiting. Tense. Unable to relax. My mind working overtime.

I wonder what goes on in his head. He looks glum, is unshaven, head down, eyes beady and foreboding. There is no laughter from this man who could make me fall over in mirth. Nothing is funny any more.

He says he is fine but his actions and reactions belie this fact. The simplest tasks become mountains for him to climb and complete.

It wasn’t always this way. He knew just what to do, even before I asked. Now I ask and ask and ask. I get frustrated and I know he must.

I feel powerless to help and he doesn’t want my help. I ache for him when he feels at such loose ends, without purpose and hope.

I don’t know how to take care of me. In my innermost self I cry out in frustration and rage. But I can’t let myself fail either him or me. That’s not my personality or nature.

I am good at hiding my fear and anxiety but it’s there…just under the surface—ready to show up and put on the armor of protection.

I know he hates this as much as I do. But he can’t make it better for me any more than I can take away his pain. God, why is this so hard?

Our life together has just been one hard thing after another. It seems impossible to get beyond it and live normally for even a few weeks. But then, what is normal?

The words of the 23rd Psalm are such a comfort when sleep eludes me. I am so thankful that You are all that I need. You promise me rest and His presence, even when I am in the darkest shadows.

I also know that You have become very real and personal as a result of all this. You hold me up, fill me with your love and comfort, and enfold me with peace even when I can’t sleep. I know that prayer keeps me close to you and during those long night hours, we have spent much time together.

I’m hesitant to talk with a counselor but I hope it will help. I don’t expect much new information; I just need to know that I’m OK. I don’t really want to take sleeping pills but it may be a necessary option.

I think the thing I miss the most, is the sense of being so completely loved and adored. I miss the tenderness, the loving look from kind eyes, the chuckle from deep inside. This disease has robbed me of my man.

I can only take one step at a time. I don’t know what You have planned for me tomorrow. Five years ago, who would have ever thought I would be here today?

I love this man with all that I am. I also ache for him…and me. Help me to be the best wife for him. Show me ways to encourage. Take care of him in ways that only You can do. Bring him joy in the midst of pain. Smooth out the rough places that threaten to trip us up. Give us some time, even just a little, when all is well.

Months have passed since my middle-of-the-night musing and Mark is much better, smiling again. Help arrived in the form of a good doctor, proper medication, and hope.

It’s not easy being in the shadow of depression. I decided to take a mild sleeping pill and am able to get that good night’s rest. I don’t know how long I will be on this medication but for now, it works.

There are no certainties with depression. It can flare up unexpectedly and bare its ugly claws, ready to strike. Counseling provided a compassionate sounding board and reaffirmation along with suggestions for handling the dark times. I’m learning to identify the behavior faster and not to take it personally. The lows are not so low and I now look forward to each new day.

I’m so thankful for God’s faithfulness to me in those dark hours knowing that it’s darkest before the dawn. I haven’t been up at midnight in many months because He has brought us both out of the pit of darkness and replaced my fear with peace. Whatever the situation, I know He is there to guide me and give me His hand. I’m not alone.

As a wife, mother and grandmother, Gerry looks to her faith, family, friends, and freedom for significance. Her husband, children, and granddaughters provide love and meaning. Friends enrich and offer warmth in an often unfriendly world. Freedom challenges her and demands resolve.