Dating a manic depressive woman
But when I’m clinically feeling depressed, there are no tomorrows. Instead of feeling that I have something to offer the world, I start believing the world would be better off without me.
I am hyper-aware of all my flaws, bit and small, past and present.
It took a lot of patience for my husband to live in the same house with me.
It also took a lot of patience to make him understand how to respond to me. When you look at the numbers, it seems like everyone on earth has some form of mental illness.
Planning a huge meal and making the house look spotless gave me something to do as my thoughts raced and my body fought to find rest.
I thought that in order to be a “manic depressive,” you had to go around in a state of euphoria.
It was mild disappointment and severe exhaustion combined, and the weight of it made me snap.
Poor Scott, I’ll never forget the look on his face as I knocked over one of our dining room chairs and said horrible things. For the next several minutes, I yelled and cursed, throwing things, hitting things, kicking things, all while my husband stood in the exact same spot with his mouth hanging open, speechless.
It was hard for him to live with someone who was a doting wife one minute and a plate-throwing lunatic the next.
A lack of understanding on both our parts almost made him walk out the front door (as plates and silverware crashed against the walls in the background! It’s not just a feeling of being sad or wanting to take a day off work to sleep; it’s this sense that all of life is absolutely bleak and hopeless and nothing you do will ever change that.