Okay, this is going to take a while to type.
DP and I (and he is still dear, despite everything) have been together since Feb 07. we hit it off really quickly, and got engaged. I was 19 at the time, but older in terms of what I wanted from a relationship compared to most other teens. He siad he'd had issues as a child having not gone to school from age 13, and spent some time in a hospital because of it, but that he can't really remember the reasons for it all now.
We'd talked about moving in together soon, and having children when we were more settled, say in about 5 years or so. Then I concieved DS in August that year, aged 20, completely unplanned. I was still living at my Dad's at the time though spending more time over at DPs flat. He was just about to start a management job in Kensington but the shock pushed him over the edge and he had a mini nervous breakdown and ended up going back to his previous job.
I pushed him to get help, and he was diagnosed as having an anxiety problem and put on ADs, which he resented as he didn't like the idea of being on tablets his whole life. Me pointing out that I was in the same boat with my epilepsy didn't hugely help, but he seemed to finally get that the point I was making was that there was a chemical problem in his brain that they were fixing, just as my meds fix the electrical hiccoughs in mine. The rest of the pregnancy went well, and he was hugely supportive when I had fits, and whenever pregnancy issues got me down. We moved in together in March 08, just a day under a month before DS was born (with much interference from my mother, with whom DP has some hefty animosity. She annoys me too, but not as much.)
Post birth I was incredibly dowm, but not diagnosed as PND because I've struggled with what is mild depression in all but diagnosis since my teens. DP has been a fantastic father from the word go, but has struggled coping with my poor health more and more as his condition deteriorated. He revealed that he had been to enforced family counselling sessions as a child, and that while in the hospital he had been forcibly restrained on a bed - held down hands and legs. His father was apparently taught to restrain him when the got too much at home (and his dad is far from sympathetic about DP's mental state). I was convinced that this was a huge part of the problem, but around this time he stopped going to his appointments because first they 'weren't helping' (His CBT helped while he had the six sessions but the effects were very short-lived,) and then because he physically couldn't leave the house to attend them. At the same time he couldn't face going to work anymore, and so a manageable debt we had began what turned out to be a long spiral out of control. I began struggling more and more with his moods, as he would go out for long walks and end up at the pub. He was still wonderful around our DS, who seemed to be the only one able to get him to smile. Eventually, he had to quit his job due to ill health, and I went out to work instead. But that didn't last long as my fits caused enough problems that the company let me go after just three or four months. We went on benefits and sought financial advice from the CAB, which just depressed him more. (His diagnosis was revised from Anciety to Depression not too long after DS was born.) Last autumn I found out he'd started smoking to relieve the stress, and he's always drunk too much IMO (though my family are near enough teetotal, so I'm not the best judge of how much is too much). He agreed, after a long struggle, to quit, partly because I threatened to leave if he didn't. I don't want DS explosed to smoke, especially since we're both home all day. After a false start, he did eventually quit, helped by the fact he never smoked enough not to feel ill after the nicotine wore off. He has tried and failed to cut down on the alcohol, and before money got so bad that his accounts were cut off (long, separate story!) he bought bottles of whisky several times and hid them from me. That part has stopped now, though for a long time I struggled to trust him when he said he hadn't smoked or drunk much. (Fortunately we're past the smoking thing now, though I still worry about his reasons for drinking at times.)
It took months before he would admit any of this to his family, which meant I had to field calls when he was feeling too paranoid to answer the phone, and lie to his parents when he was signed off sick to say he was at work, or he had a day off that day, you get the picture. We've recently begun proceedings to go bankrupt, as our numerous attempts to negotiate with the banks have been utterly futile. I'm sure the money worries have been a big part of his stress so far, but that's clearly not all of the issue. I'm 13 wks pregnant now, because we knew when I gave birth the creditors would have stopped calling us, and it's a simple matter for all bills to just come out of my bank account, as the benefits do cover them. Plus, he's very much a family man, and loves DS to bits, and a real light comes into his face when he looks at my small bump.
But the last year or so has been particularly hard on me, as he's spent increasing amounts of time unable to cope with DS's toddler tantrums, and the fact that he still doesn't sleep through. Time and again I've heard him raising his voice getting DS off to sleep, when my technique of speaking quitely whatver happens and simply ignoring him if he plays up seems to work much better. DPs temper is so much shorter than it used to be, and he snaps at me almost every day for something trivial. He's also come off the ADs, as every one he's tried has side effects he doesn't like. While I sympathise, the last one he just stopped by himself and hasn't told his Gp that he's not on them anymore. He is really hopeless about filling out a referral form for counselling, and I don't want to push him because I know it won't help. He also moans every time I have a fit now (an awful lot less now I'm not working), and says he can't cope with looking after me as well as DS. He keeps going on about how he feels he can't leave me alone with him sometimes, which I get, because there have been occasions where my fits could have put DS in danger, but he won't undestand that it's the stress of worrying about him that pushes me over the edge. I don't want to call in SS to help me because I don't want to hurt him any more (his parents seem to have really screwed him up as a child, and I think he still resents them) but I'm nearing my wits end at times.
I'd like to point out that things aren't this awful 100% of the time - I still love him to bits and I'm still happy to be with him overall. Some of the time you would never know, and most of the rest he just seems quiet and reserved, but it's the points where it gets too much for him that it gets too much for me. I come close to telling him how I feel so often, but don't want to make him worse, because he's had suicidal thoughts before and I don't want him to do something stupid. I'm really worried about him, and at the same time as I love him dearly, there are times when I just want to pack my things and go. I just have moments where I don't know where to turn. I don't have any real friends nearby, and have only my Dad and my nan as a local family support network. But I'm getting to the point where I can't cope overall, and I just don't know what to do.