Good

Things have been going so well.  So well.

Dave tried a medication that seemed really helpful at the same time that I had a breakthrough in my personal counseling regarding our relationship (namely, that Dave couldn't get better until I let him know how I need him, let him respond to my needs, and then appreciate that response from him.  Sometimes I think I'm helping him by doing everything and not expressing my needs, but that's not true).  Our relationship got a lot better, and his energy and motivation went way up.  He started applying for jobs, and got a FANTASTIC one!  He made goals in his hobbies.  He did his homework, and felt hopeful about graduating in August.  He did everything to take care of the house and responded to a survey in the mail.

Can I just say for a minute how much that meant to me?  That when we got a notice in the mail, he responded to it?  I have taken care of every bill or survey or notice that has come in the mail for the past 16 months.  I couldn't have imagined Dave doing that.  And when I came back with the mail and he looked at it and said, "Oh, I guess I'll do that," I felt amazingly happy.  Like I was part of a team, and we both picked up part of what needed to be done, without even being asked.  It was amazing.

I realized I've put this all in past tense.  That's partly because he's been feeling down this past week, but partly I think I put it in past tense because it matters much more to me that it happened than that it keeps happening.  I see clients sometimes who say "Depression is so hard to face all the time - if only we could have some breaks sometimes, to recuperate, then maybe we would have the energy to keep facing it."  And I felt like that's what I've had for the past three or four weeks.  I've had time to re-energize.  I've had hope.  I've had teamwork.  I've had gifts of time and attention.

And no matter what happens next, that's enough to keep me going for a long time.
It'd be great if things stayed this good, but this is enough for me.

My own stuff

For the record, after Dave and I looked over this post together, we decided it's really my own anxiety transferring over to worrying about Dave.

That happens, you know.  When I have a hard or a bad day, then I'm more likely to worry about Dave.  Not really a constructive cycle, but it's there.

At least we are getting to where we can talk about it and try to figure it out together.

Something fun

I have a friend who says I should make a blog of all of the fun things David does for me.  I think it'd be cooler just to include them here, so here is one:

A few weeks ago, I was feeling really overwhelmed.  I told David that I wished I were sick, so that I could justify just taking a break and doing nothing.  He said, "Why don't you just pretend you're sick?  Then you can take a break, and I'll take care of you."  And we did!  He made me soup and brought it to me, and checked in on me and brought me drinks while I watched stupid chick flicks on TV.  Best sick day I've ever had.

Forever

Today Dave said, "I was wondering today what the chances are that I will die by suicide.  Even though it's not something that I am considering right now, even though I can promise you right now that I won't, I don't know who I will be in 10 years.  I don't think it's super likely that I will die by suicide, but given my history and how suicidal I have been, I'd say it's more likely for me than for the average person."

Two things about that are a little jarring for me.  

First, that suicide will always be a threat in our relationship.  Even when it's not a threat, it's still a threat.  (I don't mean a threat from David to me, but rather, something we're both afraid could happen).

Second, that Dave phrased it so passively.  "Die by suicide" sounds like something that happens to you, rather than something you do.  I know that there is some literature out there that emphasizes that viewpoint (that suicide becomes the only option, and is not a destructive choice per se), but I had never heard Dave use that viewpoint.  It kind of forced me to enter a viewpoint where it isn't a choice, but is something that happens to you.  I didn't like that.  That scared me.  

Paralyzed

I feel paralyzed tonight.

I feel anxious and very tense.  Part of that is my own anxiety about getting schoolwork done, and part of it is anxiety that Dave slept in late today and then didn't do anything.  It's really hard to separate, sometimes, how much of my anxiety is really from school, and I'm just transferring it to Dave.  But I have been worried tonight.

After he has been doing so well (more about that later), this seems like a day right out of a rougher patch from the past 6 months.

So my thought process tonight goes something like this:

• This feels like a bad day.  It feels like a dangerous day, like one that could trigger a spiral down.  
• Do I comment on it?  Maybe I'll make Dave feel bad if I do.  Maybe things are fine, but if I comment then Dave will feel bad, and that will lead to a spiral down.
• Do I not comment on it?  But in the past when I've been quiet, it has just added to the problem.  Sometimes things got better when I was more open.  

I end up feeling so trapped either way.

But I'm circumventing all of it by writing this and having Dave read it.  That way, I process my feelings by writing them out, and I also get to be open and find out what would work best for him.

Hopefully that works?