P.S. please don't...

Recently my husband mentioned that someone emailed him anonymously about his treatment of me. He wasn't even meaning to tell me, and he didn't complain about it either, it just happened to come up. He deleted it. He already knows people think that he is not good to me, he already believes he's practically a failure when it comes to helping my depression; he even has *me* to tell him (over and over) when I am displeased.

But if you're going to say things like that about him, please don't do it anonymously. Honestly that makes it come off as threatening -- and I don't mean to Jon, he wasn't even half as disturbed by it as I was. (I have had a very negative experience with anonymous hatemail before. This time wasn't hatemail, per se, but the idea of some faceless person passing judgment on my life and loved ones is ...disturbing, to say the least.)

If you really think Jon is doing me harm, then some short anonymous statement isn't going to change anything, anyway. It takes the courage to stand by your words (and no I don't mean by giving RL information, but at least a nick or something that'd betray your *online* identity) and the effort to write out a concrete argument -- cited with all the sources you can find about what is harmful and abusive behavior to depressed persons, if you want.

And you should think about what you're doing. I could end up without a home or a plan if my husband decides he's not good enough for me and lets me go. I could end up being admitted, or admitting myself to an asylum, because I can't take care of myself. If you think you can do better than he's done for me, then prove it. It's easy when you're on the other side looking in, to say "oh I'd take care of her better, I'd make her feel good about herself," etc. etc. I'll only believe claims like that the day someone comes to me, offers me an alternate path, and actually follows through with the necessary money, resources, living space, and patience to live with a severely depressed person.

It's not as simple as a few hugs and sweet words and pulling me out of the apartment now and then, either. I think that the most debilitating part of what I suffer is that I simply do not know *how to live*. I breathe, I eat, I sleep, but beyond that the only impetus in life I understand is obligations and necessity. If I were to sit down and think to myself, "what do I want in life?" my only prominent desire right now is to escape from it. I'm unable to shoulder any sort of responsibility because I paralyze with fear at the first sign that things aren't going as planned. I've procrastinated or outright avoided SO many things I 'should have been doing' that I've got years and years of failure to look back on.

And there's my self-hate, my all-consuming rage and disgust at my existence. The pride that I have built up in me is hyperactive -- not an inspiration, but a weapon to harm myself with whenever I fall short of my expectations. Whenever I do something wrong, whenever I'm surprised by the unexpected, I'm filled with these obsessive thoughts of "what will people think of me???" until I'm sick with fear of being around anyone at all. It even creeps onto me online -- I'm paranoid of all my friends. I fear abandonment and so I hide away. I reject what little help people will give, assuming they're doing it out of guilt or obligation or because they expect something in return.

Love alone does not cure what I am afflicted with. Determination alone does not shake my mind from the harmful assumptions and defense mechanisms its grown accustomed to. Encouragement or reassurance may be interpreted as a patronizing gesture by those who trivialize my suffering. It may not be true, but I'll believe it. My first instinct is always to believe the worst of situations, even people. If there's ANY hint that can be interpreted as insult, I'll assume the insult.

It's not easy to take care of me, or predict my moods. I could be fine one day and the next day someone says something that triggers me into guilt or resentment at my situation. I could say I love and trust you, and the next day accuse you of not understanding or taking advantage of me or saying/doing things explicitly to hurt me. No matter what people give to me, I use it as a way to exemplify that I am unworthy of living, because I cannot provide it for myself -- like any 'normal' adult would.

All this to say... I appreciate people wanting to stand up for me. But I won't take your judgments seriously until you've been here with me for years, weathered my insults and verbal abuse, poured everything you have into feeding and protecting me only to find it's unappreciated and reviled because you can't give me the one thing I really want: the confidence to do it myself. If you can go through all those years knowing I will so often vilify you for what you do, take insult to your best intentions, assume what you feel even though you tell me repeatedly that you feel otherwise -- ON TOP of having to be responsible for the entirety of my well-being whenever I decide to stop caring -- and *never* end up cracking under the pressure even ONCE, then maybe your words will have some validity.

No, I won't excuse everything Jon does. No, I don't think he's perfect. And I certainly don't believe that because he's *chosen* to take care of me, that means he has a right to do whatever he wishes with me. He may do things at times I find cruel, lacking in sympathy and so on, but I am equally as guilty of such things. Make no mistake, our fights are never one-sided. In fact, they are more often instigated by me.

All that said, if you still feel you can do better than he has, or feel you have a better grasp of the situation than he does, then don't hide behind anonymous names or throwaway email addresses. Say so and say who you are. Step up and declare what you think ought to be improved in his behavior towards me. Do everything in your power to push me toward a better alternative, or if you've got the time and the money, try and take his place as my caretaker and (more often than not, lately) the punching bag upon which I unload all my revulsion for life.

I'll bet you might want to help, but you wouldn't want to take his place -- or don't have the means to.