Tomorrow will be three weeks since my husband was discharged from the hospital. 

Last Friday, he had to go back to get another treatment because they had started wearing off, he said, and I could tell that the demons were starting to come back. 

I described them as “demons” to someone in the hospital on the day I took him to the ER, and she was very interested in that word choice, asking if it was my wording or his.  I’m pretty sure that it’s not his word choice, but I think it’s an apt description because it almost feels like someone else is inside his brain sometimes, making him want to do bad things to himself – and other people sometimes.  He says he doesn’t know why it comes, how to get rid of it, or how to describe it.  But it can be frightening to look into his eyes and be near him while he’s like this.  He has never hurt me before (physically, anyway), and I want to keep it that way. 

Noticing the demons popping up again was a huge motivation to get him back to the hospital for another ECT treatment.  His doctors were very accommodating and were able to see him within about 2-3 days after I contacted them.  He felt markedly better when I picked him up after the treatment, and has another one scheduled for this coming Friday.  I hope that this won’t be a weekly occurrence for the rest of our lives, but his antidepressant doesn’t seem to be helping still, and his therapist doesn’t either. 

And how am I?  I’m taking it a day at a time, I suppose.  I’m not relaxed yet.  I’m ready for his mood to change at any time.  I’m very hopeful about the future and very glad that the ECT is working, though.  Overall my mood is good, though I’m not exercising or being as organized as I would like to be.  In an ideal world, I would keep the house spotless all the time, exercise daily, and make all three meals at home.  Right now I’m happy when I do one of those things in a day. 

Even though things aren’t perfect, they’re so much better than last month that I’m very happy with our lives at the moment.  We’re making good progress and I’m determined to never let it get that bad again. 

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I'm a young, childless widow who is trying to figure out the best way to deal with the world in light of my late husband's suicide. It's harder than I ever imagined it would be, but somehow at the same time I am still alive and even happy sometimes.

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