There is a lot resting on my shoulders and it's starting to hurt as it pulls me down. I try to stand up straight, but my body is weak from holding itself up for so long. The weight of the world is heavy and I'm trying hard, but I can't carry the world on my own anymore.
It's time to let you in
It's time to tell you
It's time to tell you
I'm sorry, as I feel as if I let you down, and I'm not what you planned, or thought I would be. I'm fragile, weak, broken, and scarred, and no matter how hard I've tried, I still can't seem to heal. I feel bad for the life that you thought you would have, and I have guilt from feeling like I've robbed you of happiness and peace.
It feels like you live in one world while I live in a completely different world. My world wreaks chemical havoc on my brain every moment, and it doesn't stop for me. It's like riding a Ferris Wheel and wanting to get off when it stops, but I can't ever got off, no matter how badly I want to, I am pulled and lured in my seat on this rotating wheel of torture.
I've tried to explain this wheel of torture to you so many times and you say "just get off the ride." If it were as easy as that I would have years ago, because I don't even like Ferris Wheels, they scare me and make me dizzy. What you don't know is, that I've actually been on this ride for so long, longer than you and I have been together. I learned to fake it and pretend that I could handle the ride, and I latched onto unhealthy ways of coping with it. Something I hid very well, because I had years learning how to survive the treacherous wheel, and I accepted it as part of my life.
I felt like if I told you about the wheel that you would try and sit with me on it, and I didn't want you to be stuck on the ride with me, but what I didn't realize was that even though you were not in the seat with me, you were watching me on the wheel and just as dizzy as it makes me, it makes you even dizzier, watching me go around and around and around, spiraling into sadness, fear, guilt, regret, self loathing, I look down at you as you watch me and I can't imagine watching someone take a ride like that.
But you stay and watch and you hate the wheel too, but you love the passenger, so you stay, waiting for the moment that the wheel stops so that you can get me out of the spinning seat, and on the days when you can, I am grateful, tired, but grateful. When the ride pulls me back into my seat, you are there waiting for the next time it slows down enough for you to catch me.
For better or for worse, in sickness and in health
So to you, my husband, my best friend...that is what my depression and anxiety is like. I'm sorry you have to watch it, you try so hard to understand what it's like for me, and I have never known how to explain it to you, I will tell you that it's a never ending ride that I have a lifetime pass for and I don't get to decide when I can get on or off, and I can't control the speed or the amount of times I am on it. I hate this ride and I will never ask you to sit with me in my seat, but I promise to tell you when the wheel is too much and I promise to yell out when it makes me sick and I promise to tell you when I need you to talk me through the scary parts
I'm sorry that I never told you about the wheel
I'm sorry that the wheel makes me sick
I hate the wheel
your wife that struggles with spinning wheel of depression and anxiety