Don't panic

Living with someone who has depression can feel in many ways like being in a parallel universe. Often it feels like a universe which is just slightly out of kilter with the one that everybody else lives in. It's only a fraction out so you can see each other and hear each other; but the two worlds operate in subtly different ways.

I wish I had a guide to this universe. And if I did, it would also have on the front cover in big bold print the words: DON'T PANIC. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy did its bit to get me through adolescence and its advice has proved salient many times since.

Since J started showing signs of depression again I felt like I was falling into the deep end of a very cold pool. But anyway, panic is what I did. It wasn't a daub myself in ochre and run laps around the bathroom kind of thing. (Doesn't everyone panic like that?)

It's just that my heart started to beat faster and more loudly, my breathing was more shallow.

Luckily all the reading and thinking and listening to the advice of those who have inhabited similar places for longer than I hasn't been completely wasted on me. I surprised myself by pulling back reasonably well.

And so far things haven't been too bad anyhow. He was properly down for a full day. He seemed to spring back a little the next day and was able to discuss what he was feeling. I could even suggest that he see his counsellor sooner than his next appointment if need be, to which he agreed.

Is this progress? Either way, panic is best avoided. But there's definitely a bit of a gap between what I know intellectually about how to handle this and what I know emotionally. Emotional me is running a little behind.

Flo