I debated a long time before I posted that last piece. It was and has been a very difficult point in my life, and I wanted to keep some of the blog more upbeat. Although these incidents define my life and relationship over the past six years.
Things have gotten better. She was hospitalized one or two times a year for the first three years when we moved here, ending completely in 2007. There was one more incident in 2008 that she should have gone and that I was stupid for not bringing her and thankful that it did not turn out any worse.
My daughter remembers some of those times, like spending Mothers Day in the common area of the mental health facility. She also understands she is sick, but still makes the comments like 'Why does mommy sleep all the time." Or "Mommy is always angry."
I would be foolish to say that this has not affected our relationship. I would like to say that we are stronger, but I have yet to open my heart back up to her as I did in the past for fear of what could really happen.
She also is numb from the medications that she takes which makes it more difficult for me to love her if she can't feel the love for me back or even for herself, if you actually understand what I am saying.
In time I know that things will get better, she has a great therapist, and now a great psychiatrist. She is on better meds but not completely stable. It is day to day with her depression. Its like she can see all the good in her life but does not know how to feel happy about any of it.
There are days that I sit and watch TV and listen for her laughter. I used to be able to get her laughing so hard that she could not stop and now just hearing her laugh at something on TV or from something my daughter did is enough.
Enough to make me realize that things can and will get better. Enough for me to realize that it is better than it was a few years ago. Enough for me to stick around and continue to take care of her and my daughter. But not enough to make me not fear the possibility that the whole world can come crashing down on us at any minute.
I still get angry when she tells me she is depressed, not because I am angry with her or the situation. I get angry because I have no control over her depression and despite all the things that I try to do to make it better I will never have that.
Most people say that it is enough to be there for her and listen to her, which is what I do all the time. Sometimes, though, I wish I could give her a hug and make it all go away.