In sickness and in health

It's too soon for this post. It's not fair that we have to fight so hard, just to breathe. But here we are.

The first time I sat down to write this, I had just entered a very challenging time with my boyfriend. Together only 2 months at the time, he was dealing with a second bout of depression just since we'd been together. He assured my fragile heart it wasn't me, but that there just wasn't much I could do either. Facing that season- and watching someone I love struggle through such inexplicable darkness was a unique kind of isolating. I wanted to love the actual hell out of him- but anything I thought of was of no interest to him. Even sex which we happen to quite enjoy as a couple, he'd long since lost interest in. Communication of any sort was difficult at very best. I wanted to write and let others in similar situations know that they aren't alone, and that dating among demons is doable. And let them know that I suffered through with my man, and we made it, and they can too.

I thought I had so much inspiration to share with the world. So much strength to put on display.

"See, dating with depression is doable! You can still have love!"

However, before I could write out the pain I was feeling, the sun was once again shining for us, and the weight of the darkness we'd just fought off slipped so quickly into a distant memory. We free-fell once again into plans and dreams and bliss for our future. We talked travel and children and hope, love and passion grew, as if nothing had happened. He gives me butterflies all the time. He calls me "doll". He makes me feel like I am precious. And I felt so so so happy.

And then it happened.

My own demon showed up and sat beside me, just letting me know he was back. The medication I had been taking for a few months had kept him at bay- so at first, I denied he was really back. But over the next few weeks, he got closer and closer. And by Sunday afternoon a week ago, his beady, deathly eyes were staring into mine, draining the life from inside me. Before I could even get home- his hands gripped my throat and my heart began to pound- it felt like it was going to beat out of my chest and shatter on my steering wheel. My lungs began rapidly heaving with the hyperventilation that had quickly settled in. My gut erupted up through my mouth and ungodly, darkness-saturated screams filled my empty car. Tears gushed out of my eyes and streamed down my face. Every gasp for air was followed by another hallow, hopeless scream. Every time I tried to clamp my mouth shut and stop the horrible screaming, out another would come up anyways, from deep down inside where everything was all broken.

For the first time to my knowledge, I cried out "God, please just kill me now. Just let someone run into me and end it all. Just make it all end. Let me wake up in Endless Light."

I have never actually wanted to die. But I can assure you, last week I did.

Suicide has always seemed so selfish- and it is. But I get it. I get just wanting that horrible feeling to end. If anyone is in that much pain, isn't death going to seem like the only logical out? Why are we offering assisted suicide to end of life cancer patients and shaming those who's agony is less visible? I'm not saying I agree with suicide in any capacity, but I get it.

The darkness felt so wholly consuming that the only way to escape it was to be wrapped at last in Jesus's actual arms.

There are many capacities to the healing and restitution I have experienced since last week. Some medical, some spiritual, some emotional. But this post is primarily about dating through this.

And my man was there. Never shaming me. Being patient with me. Loving me in his own ways. Being present when I need him, reaching out in ways that meant a lot to me.

We've only been together since July- and already we have faced two bouts of depression, a hospital, and now a severe anxiety attack. And we have stood by each other, supported each other, loved each other, and been light to each other when our worlds felt otherwise consumed in darkness.

We made it. And although work has been insane for my amazing man this week, he has made sure I'm ok. He's been there for me. He has given me his love as best as he's been able.

We're stronger. As people, as a couple. Because we chose to fight through this together, and fight for the other.

It. Is. Not. Easy. Nothing about this is easy. Some days I wake up and realize none of it was happening- because this isn't the last time one or both of us will enter a season of darkness- but it's worth it. It's worht it because we have learned to fight for the soul in the other person and created ties between us that I would argue are uniquely stronger than those of a mentally healthy couple. We're stronger than this. And we're strong for each other.

We can do it. You can do it. Jesus hasn't left us to total darkness. Our people are worth our love. They deserve the light we can bring to their lives.

Fight for the light in your loved ones life. He/She is worth it, and the bond it creates is payment enough.