Why I chose this

My Dad had very severe depression while I was growing up, and he went into treatment (several different kinds of treatment, actually) when I was 18.  It's remarkable to me that I didn't know that my dad had depression until he announced that he was going in to treatment.  Very suddenly, a lot of things made sense, and I was shocked that I hadn't realized how infrequently my dad smiled or laughed, or that he was never satisfied with his work performance, etc. etc.  But I was even more shocked that I never knew how much stress my mom was under.  I had no idea, because she carried herself with so much grace and was so other-focused, always present for me regardless of what else was going on.

At some point following this revelation, I decided that I would not, could not, marry someone with severe depression.  I thought that of all the things I could face, that alone would be too much for me.  

But I knew Dave had depression before we got married, and at some point during our dating I recognized that he had more or less exactly (I didn't know it would become this severe, but I knew he had depression and that anything could happen) what I had set myself against.  And I chose Dave over that decision.  I chose Dave because I knew that he made me happy, that I could never be as happy without him as I was with him.  I wanted him in my life forever, and it was worth whatever else I might have to face.  

And I still choose Dave, on a daily basis.  I'm a fairly pragmatic person (okay, really pragmatic, even though I think the word sounds cold), and I've had a few heart to hearts with myself assessing whether or not I'd be happier if I left the relationship.  And I always conclude no.  I still need Dave to be happy.  He still makes me happy, and gives me a sense of stability and comfort and confidence that my dreams are possible.  

And going through all the worst times - is worth it.  It's worth it for days like today, when I come home to a living room of partially-folded laundry, from a husband who saw I was running out of underwear.  When I fall asleep waiting for him in the parking lot, and wake up to him rubbing my shoulders because he loves me and shows his love for me every day.  When he tells me he's just passed off his program, and I know that a big part of why he's in school, pushing through all his homework (and succeeding!) is because he cares about me and wants to be able to succeed and to support me.  Because I know he quite literally lives for me.  

And that's pretty nice.

P.S. I was reminded of this decision when I was talking about my blog with one of my coworkers today - I'm grateful for people at work (and elsewhere) who make me feel valued and like what I have to say is important.