My W started this weekend with some difficulty. She was struggling with a bout of depression. She had difficulty enjoying much of anything. She also had difficulty getting out of bed, but forced herself to do it. It prompted this discussion on Friday before falling asleep:
M: How are you doing? W: OK, I guess. It's just hard. It's hard to enjoy anything; sometimes I am just tired. Tired with life. ... W: What's wrong. M: I know it's wrong for me to think this way; but I can't help but think I should be able to do something. It's hard for me to see you like this. W: It's not your fault. It's just my mind is messed up. It will get better, it always does. You are a wonderful husband.
She still doesn't want the meds. She wants to battle this herself. She forced herself to go on a hike with us yesterday afternoon and by last night she seemed to be back to her normal self. I think we both understand these bouts with depression better now.
