Our loved ones see our mental illness differently than we do.

This post that I’m sharing is very special to me because it is written by my husband. From his perspective of a particular time when I had lost hope. I’ve hesitated on sharing this because my family and friends may read this, there is no need to worry my mental illness is in remission. At the end I share my thoughts.

 
Tiff asks me once again “Can we talk?” with that pained look in her eyes that was all too familiar at this point. It had been roughly 6 months of talks, prayer and many tears over the topic of how depressed she was. Sometimes our talks would help, sometimes I would make it worse by getting frustrated and impatient. Some nights I would get the sense that we were making real progress and then a week later we would be back, her crying and us praying over the same topic I was sure we had dealt with. 

Talk of suicide had come up several times at this point, but it was always in a manner that seemed irrational. This time however, as we talk Tiffany asks me to please hide my guns from her. Now if I ever imagined what it would be like to lose a loved one, the thought in itself is difficult to swallow. But in any case, in my mind the loss was always death in the form of a tragic car accident or failing health. I never really conisdered what it would mean to me if my wife, the person I love the most on this earth was to willingly take her own life. 

As the problem solver of the family, Mr. Fix it I naturally want to think of the most logical solution to the problem. None of this made any sense to me. Life is good! We have a home, healthy beautiful kids, we both have jobs, family, friends, church and God. Why end it? Or rather why would you WANT to end it? Logic is not working. So I turn to self doubt. Is she unhappy in our marriage? Am I not leading her right? Is the life that I have tried my best to provide for our family not good enough? What should I have done differently? 

The fear and the insecurity that came with this request to hide my guns was very real. It was time to get serious about getting professional help and medication. Since Tiff was reluctant to get on medication I would only suggest it but didnt push too hard. I wanted it to be a decision she made on her own. But now it was time to push. I didn’t care if she resented me for making her see a doctor and take meds, I couldn’t deal with the thought of her wanting to kill herself. 

 The guns were immediately concealed, but I was still very concerned. Afterall, having a gun handy would make it easy but if it was this bad she could find another way if she tried hard enough. While i dont fully understand what its like to deal with mental illness, I have been reassured and I’m confident now that it’s not my fault. I am grateful to God that he has provided doctors and medicine to help. The change has been dramatic since she started taking medication and I haven’t heard the word suicide since. Our talks at night are back to being full of laughter and plans for the future. My wife, my love has come back to me. 

There were many times where I cried myself to sleep begging the me that used to exist to hold on promising her that God would bring freedom. In the beginning suicidal thoughts weren’t something I thought about often but over time they became more frequent until I thought about it everyday, all day and even started planning. Understand I didn’t want to end my life, I wanted to end the pain. 

My heart overflows with passion to share this piece of my life. When I opened up I started hearing other’s stories and understood this is not uncommon we just don’t TALK about it. I prayed John 8:31-32 and John 14:13-14. One about freedom if I just obey and the other promising an answered prayer if we would just ask. I was ashamed and fearful for years about this part of my life. Now I treasure this lifelong journey and I’m determined to use it for good.