The dark days- part 2

NOTE: I STRONGLY ADVISE YOU TO SKIP THIS POST IF THE PREVIOUS POST (PART 1) WAS DIFFICULT. (I did not sugar coat anything)

...

The battle with my depression consumed almost four years of our marriage. Some things are vivid in my memory, while others are quite blurry. I can remember certain events but don't always recall when exactly they took place. So bear with my babbling...

I remember feeling an emotion, and feeling frustrated because I didn't know what that emotion was. I started getting worked up. My mind raced and my body shook. I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. I felt like I was out of control and I didn't have a clue how to handle it. When I began experiencing this feeling of complete anxiety and rage I resorted to physically hurting myself. I would hit my head over and over against a hard surface. This became a sort of habit. It was a small release to feel the sharp pain, the skin breaking, followed my throbbing, and then numbness. (I have a permanent indentation on my forehead from this). This act usually ended with me exhausted and crying myself into a deep sleep. Of course if Davin was around, this 'release' wasn't so easy because he would obviously try stop me. This angered me, which led to me trying to push him away, yelling, hitting at him, and this exhausted me enough to fall asleep.

One night, less than a year after we were married, I had this feeling of anxiety and rage. Davin was home, but I felt determined to hurt myself, as I felt I needed to feel that pain. I don't recall the events exactly, but I this is one of the few times I cut myself. I was in a different room than Davin. I was hiding from him, but looking back I know this was a cry for help. I was out of control and I didn't know what to do. Davin came into the room and I believe I showed him what I had been doing- my 'cuts' barely broke skin- I felt the pain, but didn't want to die. This lead to a battle of him trying to get the knife away from me and me yelling that I wanted to die. Whatever happened, it was loud enough for a neighbor to call the police. When they knocked on the door, I tried to hold Davin back from answering it. He tried to drag me with him, as he didn't want me to be alone with the knife. By the time the door was opened I was hysterical. An officer physically sat on me on the couch to hold me still while they called an ambulance. This was my first of many trips to the ER. I don't believe I was admitted this time, but I did have three hospital stays in the couple years after that.

I went to counseling. Trying to pinpoint what was causing my depression, I started to blame my marriage. I shouldn't have gotten married so young. I felt tied down and suffocated. The truth is that Davin encouraged me to do whatever I wanted to do in life. For some reason I just wanted to be un-married. I thought that's what the problem was. And, wouldn't you believe, my counselor at the time agreed. She actually encouraged me to think about leaving Davin. Which I eventually entertained as an option. I one time 'moved out'. I think I lasted a weekend. Another time I decided to move to Arizona for a winter. I made it to Oklahoma before turning around.

...In a way, this is easy to talk about because I have accepted that this was my life, and I have been in a good, stable place for many years now. However, it is never easy to look at how bad I made life for Davin. When I fought him, he sat there and let me. When I blamed him for how I felt, he took the blame. When I wanted out, he gave me money and helped me pack. He just wanted me to be happy and was willing to do anything to make that happen as long as it meant me staying alive. I don't think most men- especially newly married ones, would have put up with what I put him through. I wish I could leave the parts about me hurting him out of this, but it was very real. And he never left my side. Not once. Not a day goes by that I forget that.