I wrote in my last post that my husband, who suffers from severe depression, and I thought a prescription drug, which he started taking about 10 years ago, could be the cause of all this misery.
Well, I was wrong.
I’m not going to spend much time on the details here, but he explained to me yesterday, following an appointment with his psychologist, that he has been emotionally numb for as many as 25+ years. He has no understanding, literally, of what it’s like to use feelings to guide one’s daily life or decisions.
He’s lived for as long as he can remember in a state of … what, exactly? He explained that his decisions were based purely on reason and a bit of cynicism. Not on love: for himself, or for me, or for anyone. Not based on anything emotional at all.
I don’t know how someone can live like this and not commit suicide. I’m actually surprised he’s still here.
But here is what is amazing to me. I took all this in with a fair degree of shock. It infected my dreams last night, too.
This morning, I woke up feeling really good. It’s not that I don’t have sympathy for him, of course, because I do. It’s heartbreaking.
My therapy, however, showed me that I have the strength and power to create any kind of life I want to live. I love myself now. I believe in myself now. No matter what happens, no matter what decisions I need to make, no matter what else I hear from him, I can learn and grow from all of it — and make it part of my spectacular life.
I never thought I’d reach this point. It’s taken a lot of effort to get here, and I work on myself every single day to release negative emotions and harmful beliefs about myself.
But I’ve never been more thankful for therapy than I am right at this very moment.