In Love with Depression

I found a group, they meet Mondays.  It’s a group for depressed or bipolar folks and their loved ones.  It was very helpful.  I was asked a question to provoke thought and have been thinking about it on and off since Monday.  I want to be honest, and make sure I’m answering for me.  He asked, “Why are you with him?”  Him being the boyfriend, and the why is because he’s depressed.

The obvious answer is because I love him.  I could go on about birds singing and stars twinkling, but as much as I feel that’s true and lovely, it doesn’t answer the question.  It creates more.  Why do I love him? And, why am I with him?

I’m still with him because I want to support him, I want to help him.  I want to see him beat depression.  I think he can, or I wouldn’t be trying (at least I hope not).  I’m with him because I’d want someone to be there for me.  I’m there because I love him.

I love him because…I do.  Isn’t it strange how hard it is to answer this one?  It’s so personal, and just ours, I don’t want to share.  He’s the most amazing person I ever met.  He’s the smartest person I know.  He has a red beard.

The more I thought about why I love him, why I’m sticking around, the more I thought about selfish stuff.  Love is NOT altruistic.  We give love and expect it to return to us.  Depression steals that away.  I give my love away to the boyfriend, and in great abundance right now, and I get nothing back.  Or, I get back anger and hurt.  He blows up my positive self-image, and I leave hurt and dejected.

It’s a good question, why am I sticking around?  What used to be a 50/50 has turned into a 90/10.  I’m not getting what I need from this endeavor, so why be involved?  My first thought is always, because that’s what I’d hope a friend would do for me, especially my best friend.  I’d want a champion fighting for me, even if I wasn’t up to fighting or, like in the boyfriend’s case, in denial about what I’m up against.  Isn’t that what loyalty is?  Isn’t this what the books tell about, and the legends are based on?  An enduring loyalty, and against all odds, that sort of kinship that wins the battle?

I know I’m not a hero in a modern myth, but why can’t I be right?  What’s so wrong about hoping that by sticking around and doing what little I can, that maybe they’ll be a happy ending?

But why do all that?  Why endure shitty, SHITTY, things being said to me?  Why suffer through two steps forward, one back?  And, the worst of them all, why be forced to listen to my beloved tell me he thinks we should break up, every time he doesn’t like the way things are going?  That must be the love again keeping me around.

I love him because he gets me, without question he accepts my odd quirks, and there are many.  He calms me.  My favorite times are being alone with him, because then I can concentrate, and I can be still.  He understands, and even more importantly, he knows that he may never understand, but stands by me anyway.  I trust him.  He is loyal, and he is loyal to me.

Well, he was, and then the depression tar monster got him.  He went from all that to an angry, aggressive bump.  I think those things (and so many more!) are worth fighting for.  So, for now, I’m fighting.  And there are days, like today when I can recall so clearly all these beautiful things about him.  I miss him so much.  He isn’t going to call, or text or email, and days like today, these things hurt more than all the nasty words he could sling at me.


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