Hey everyone, Ruth here. I’m writing in italics because today my Husband will be posting. So since I can’t help but make comments the ought I thought I’d differentiate our writing but putting mine in italics and his in print.
This is Sebastian
This is Ruth
Sebastian. Not Ruth.
Ruth. Not Sebastian.
Got it? Good. So Sebastian wrote a post and it ended up being very long so we split it in two. The first being his background on all of this. And the second post will be his advice and thoughts on how to help a loved on who suffers with depression and anxiety. I apologize for any crudeness he might throw in. By the way he chose the title because he thought it was funny and clever how it sounded like Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.
Depression sucks. In all the relationships I’ve had, depression is the worst ailment of those I’ve cared about. Yeah and how many relationships have you had there, bro?
It’s probably the hardest to deal with because I can’t comprehend the feelings of hopelessness and utter dispare (once milked a cow named Utter Dispare… Which is the answer to a card in Trivial Pursuit). Your own personal trivial pursuit that no one probably wants to play
I’ve been around quite a few mental ailments too. Not going into too much detail: I’ve been around people with borderline and narcissistic personalities; ADHD and ADD; are ADHD and ADD considered mental ailments? depression and anxiety; eating disorders and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; empaths and apaths. I’ve even been suspected of several of these… But I’m Irish, and if Freud was right about anything, it’s that you can’t psychoanalyze those brilliantly clever and atrociously loyal cousins of mine on the Emerald Ilse.
So even with an upbringing in the chaotic beauty of a traditional Irish family (complete with a father of weak constitution and weekly bouts of fisticuffs with Donovan), I still had no idea of what to do with depression. I’m still trying to figure it out, just as scientists are trying to figure out why I call them all nerds.
This terror of the mind has struck blows against all aspects of my life…
Few are aware that the deaths of our servicemen in Iraq and the Afghan are supremely overshadowed by the death of those who return with a war ravaged mind. The rate of veteran suicide is about 22 a day. You can read about it here.
I remember so clearly when Ruth had her biggest breakdown. I was out in the oilfields of the Dakotas working construction jobs when I received a call from her dad. I let it go to voicemail. When I checked it and heard what happened, I got back to town ASAP. I’m pretty sure the closest I could come to understanding depression was when my fiancée couldn’t hug me…. Couldn’t let me near her… Couldn’t even stand… Haha. I wish you were exaggerating. Fun fact, according to my therapist he couldn’t touch me because My brain started triggering as if I had PTSD. I have no idea why either.
And I was useless. With all my fortitude and manly virtue -is this where the narcism comes into play?,there was no way I could fight against her demons. Useless. Helpless. Left there to watch in bitter angst as her own brain attacked her soul.
Depression is a cancer. An inoperable cancer. It took me 23 years, 8months and 19 days he just made that number up. He literally just pulled that number outta his hiney. to realize this: it’s not about fixing her… It’s all about being there to help her through it.
So this concludes my Marine’s background knowledge portion. In a few days he/we will be posting the second, and in my opinion more informative, portion of this topic.
(A photo from our wedding during our vows. Couldn’t help it! Shout out to my wonderful photographer 🙂 she’s pretty amazing! Also I can guarantee I’ll post more wedding photos on the next blog post because I’m obsessed with them)
Also neither of us are doctors and specialists or anything so don’t take our word as gospel truth! We would highly suggest you or your loved one seeking help from a professional!