Sorry not posted for a bit. I’d be no fun with my contributions to the thread atm.
Dh left his job, had a mental breakdown, he’s been diagnosed with severe depression. Out of work now. Then ds has been the worst I could possibly describe and I’m a close second to dh with having a breakdown too, although I always feel depressed like this in the summer holidays which you’ll know from previous years. My mental health gets battered.
He goes back to school in 2 weeks and 6 days, I had to ring social services last week about respite. Someone was calling me back, still waiting.
I knew dh was depressed, known for years, but it’s in waves if you get me, he’ll be really down then ok for a few weeks, but he would never get any treatment when I told him too, but to be honest I never pushed him hard enough being so busy with ds so I feel to blame really. Dh is like that, needs making rather than telling and I never made him, I have to book all his drs appointments, literally organise everything for him etc he’s like a 36 year old child. He’s always just gone to work full time and I’ve dealt with ds and I’ve neglected dh and his well-being. I know I have to look after ds but in doing so nothing else has really mattered if that makes sense.
I’ve previously mentioned dh has got other conditions, like undiagnosed adhd for starters. Hence needing me to practically wipe his arse. I’ve been with him 19 years and he’s always been the same, . He’s really impulsive and erratic and his 2 brothers who are younger have diagnosed adhd. Then ds with it, I know hand on heart dh is adhd too, it’s a no brainier. So then I think wtf why have I never pushed for him to get a diagnosis and medication etc etc etc. Just too busy looking after ds and that’s when I feel a major cunt.
Im not blaming ds at all, that would be unfair, but his conditions and associated behaviours have made our home hell for years and dh said to me recently, I’ve been working in a job I despise, working hours I despise, mental health going down the pan by the day and then I come home and ds is smashing the house up and having tantrums day and night, not sleeping keeping everyone awake and attacking us both and I can’t cope with any of it, and then he said he would rather not be here at all. As in rather not be alive
Just really fucking depressing all of it.
Ds had his casts off to be redone last Thursday, 4 drs had to pin him down and remove them, it was horrific. Really horrific. And he never got them put back on. So we managed 2 weeks in them.
Send me positive vibes! x