Half Full or Half Empty?

One of the first photos my husband took once he was feeling better after his fall. 

I've been wanting to start up a blog relating to my husbands depression for a while.  I have another blog that I write frequently on which gets regular traffic from friends and family members.  I know I have nothing to hide, but for some reason, the thought of sharing the details of this aspect of my life with all those that know me feels very intrusive.  My hopes is for this to be somewhat of an anonymous blog.  A place for me to find refuge in my writing as well as share my experiences with others who may be experiencing similar situations.  

I have known my husband now for 11 and 1/2 years.  We've been married for 10 and have two beautiful children.  The details are far to great to get into in one blog post, but the gist of things is that since I've known him, he has always been prone to depression or some sort of sadness has plagued him.  I find it interesting that we are together since most of the time I'm a glass is half full gal and he's quite the opposite.  I guess it's true that opposites do attract. 

Although he has struggled on and off with anger, depression, and PTSD from his childhood there have only been a couple of times when the intensity of his illness has gotten so great that it has scared the shit out of me.  The first time was after my first born arrived.  I believe the shock of becoming a parent (and quitting smoking) sent him into a tizzy and we went through a very dark period.  I, being the hormonal and exhausted mess that I was dove straight in with him.  I am not characteristically depressed.  I feel so blessed that I have not experienced this element of pain in my life, however I have been subject to the ups and downs of pregnancy hormones as well as a long period of grief after losing my mother at the age of 31.  I believe life is beautiful, even its darker moments.

We moved to a remote island in the Pacific Northwest last fall (2012) with the hopes of finding fresh air and a safe environment to raise our kids.  When my husband fell down and cracked a rib at the beginning of a dark winter, things began to decline.  After being bed-ridden for over a month and not seeing the light of day or feeling a single ray of sun for this period of time he became depressed and angry.  The winter was filled with fighting and tears, from our entire family.  At points I felt that no matter what I said "it was wrong".  I had moments of reprieve when I would start to think things were getting better and then tempers would flair.  He was depressed and I was exhausted.  

After his rib started to get better a new physical ailment appeared.  My husband developed a pain in his solar plexes.  He would complain about it and say that the only way to relieve it would be to induce vomiting.  He spent his days in bed and all I would hear from him was retching and moaning for sometimes as long as a week.  Then, somehow, he would come out of it and 2-3 weeks later the same cycle would happen all over again.

It's summer now and the cycle continues, I can't even count how many times it's happened now.  My husband just began to start eating again after another 5 day long retreat in the furnished basement of our house.  He even missed our daughter's 4th birthday party.  I went to the Dr. with him this week and for the first time I feel that I have come out of my own denial of the situation.  My husband is very sick and unless he somehow gets help aside from just his regular MD I don't believe he will be able to snap out of this horrible cycle.  Although he is willing to get mental help, he doesn't seem interested in it till he gains some strength back.  I don't know if it is even possible since the two are so interconnected.  I'm afraid he may have to be institutionalized if he doesn't seek help immediately.  

Basically, my husband is suffering from a form of bulimia.  Not the typical type which is related to body image and the desire to grow thin, but more like a form of "cutting", where he does the retching to relieve a deeper pain inside him (the pain in his solar plexus).  I don't know how, but somehow it works, as a quick fix obviously.  He has scabs on his middle finger from sticking his finger down his throat, he has lost over 30 pounds in 4 months.  He looks like a ghost and his skin is grey.  It is one of the most heart aching things I have ever witnessed.  

My daughter has asked me several times if "Daddy is going to die" and I even witnessed her sticking her hands down her throat at one point to mimic him.  At times I become torn between the desire to keep my family together and help my husband into recovery or packing my bags and getting the hell out before my kids witness their father completely destroy himself.  This is one of the most difficult experiences I have had to go through.

One day at a time seems to be my motto these days, that and the serenity prayer.  At least my husband is slowly taking steps in the right direction.  Although it is not on my time table, or the route I may take, I see him trying.  I know he doesn't want to live like this, I don't either.  In the meantime, I am cultivating my own support group and doing the best to take care of my kids as well as stay as sane as I can amidst the chaos I am living with.  I love my husband with all my heart, it would fall to pieces if he weren't around.  Deep breath.  One day at a time my friends.  One Day At A Time.