Depression is not good for a relationship

As I looked around my house today, something became painfully obvious. I am spiraling into a depression. Depression isn't a new concept to me. So, why does looking around my house show me that I am depressed? Because it is becoming disorganized and dirty. For the past week, my only desire has been to stay in bed and stare at the ceiling. I cry at the drop of the hat, which in my profession is not a good thing. The patients don't ever seem to have a happy story. I am on anti-depressants, although the better statement would be that I am prescribed anti-depressants. Taking them regularly has not been on my priority list in the past several weeks. I started back on them today.

The last time depression reared its ugly head, I let it take over and my relationship and job suffered. I cried and didn't clean-two things the ex could not deal with. I was suicidal, but not so deep that I could not stop myself from actually ending things. The relationship was not the cause of the depression, just the victim. I could not deal with life and he could not deal with someone who was not cheerful. I think it was pretty much doomed from the beginning because he was my rebound guy and I can not name much we had in common.

So, now back to the current relationship with Heath. He calls to wake me up at 9:30am to tell me that his golf game had been cancelled and he was on his way over. Part of me was happy, but then part of me was wanting to pull the covers over my head. I did not fall asleep until 3:00 am and I woke up at 6:00am and spent an hour trying to ease my ear pain, so 9:30 was a wee bit early. I still needed to shower and I am definitely not at the point were he needs to see me in no make-up and worn out clothes. Due to the depression last year, no make-up and jeans/T-shirts reared there head too early. While they meant to say, "I am too tired to care what I look like," the message to the boyfriend was probably more of "You are not worth my dressing up and looking nice." Definitely don't want Heath to get that impression. I get up and hurriedly shower, dress, put on make-up, etc. All the while thinking a cup of coffee would be nice and dream of nice breakfast. He knocks on the door, I answer, he comes in and heads for the couch. He promptly closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. There are no spoons in the drawer, a sign that the dishwasher needs to get to work. I clean out the fridge, run the dishwasher and drink a cup of coffee. Heath wakes up and asks me what I want to do. It is clear he would rather be playing golf, but my ear is not going to be okay with 40-something temperatures. Along with my depression is indecisiveness. Think of it this way-I don't feel like doing anything, so how in the world am I to make a decision about what I want to do! It is decided that we are going to Waffle House for breakfast (at noon), which is fine with me because eating hasn't been in the plan all morning. After that we head to Home Goods and Target to look for a storage ottoman, because thanks to all the Wii accessories, my coffee table looks like it has been taken over by adolescent boys. No luck finding a storage ottoman that I can afford. When we arrive to my house, he makes me watch a golf DVD while he plays Zelda. The golf video is word-for-word the book I am already reading, so when the computer turns off by itself, I gladly stop watching the video. I guess I need to find a way to say-I do want to play golf and not knowing how is not what is stopping me. Not having the right clothes, not being able to hit the ball very far, and the cold temperatures are the roadblocks. I would gladly go to the driving range today, but it is too cold and my ear is throbbing. So he spends the afternoon playing Zelda while I lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Probably not the most exciting afternoon, but for a depressed girl it worked. As he left, he invited me to go to his place, sit on the couch, and stare at the ceiling. Okay, so he left out the ceiling part, but I am sure he finds me staring at the ceiling a little odd. I did not go to sit on his couch though, I still had paperwork to do for work for tomorrow, so I stay home.

This afternoon made me think about what to say. I am obviously depressed and if Heath hasn't noticed something is wrong, then he needs to figure out how to raise his EQ. When my depression wasn't so obvious, my mother told me not to share the depression piece of my life with Heath. That seems deceitful, since apparently I could relapse at any time (and yes, I realize it is my own fault for not taking my meds). How much do I tell? Does he really need to know that I tried to jump out a window a month after CLB's death. My first year of med school, where I only left my room to go to class and anatomy lab and lost 25lbs was not a proud moment in my life and something I don't want to share so early in a relationship. What kind of message does that send? How do you work that in? "Oh yeah, of course I want children. I hope you will be a great father because sometimes I get so depressed I don't leave my room and I stop eating." Actually my depression has become better and I catch it before it happens, but how do I convince him of that? So tonight I told him that I restarted my anti-depressants. Hopefully he won't freak out and he will ask questions. I guess we will see....