(This post was written by Kimchi – the life loving counterpart of depressed Gumbo. She describes what life is like with a partner suffering from depression)

It all started with a contract

In September 2018 Gumbo and I decided that for the upcoming 12 months every decision we make and action we take must be beneficial to his mental health. We call it operation happiness.

It includes big decisions like quitting his job or travelling through Southeast Asia for 3 months but also little things like him saying no to something I suggest (as this is hard for him, because he wants to avoid conflicts). The contract obliges him to focus on finding inner peace and me to support him along the way and help him out - even financially if necessary.

Loving somebody suffering from depression is like hiking a mountain together. It takes a lot of constant effort and sometimes you might want to give up.

But let’s start from the very beginning.

I met gumbo six years ago. There was something mysterious about him that made him interesting to me from the start. He was intelligent, motivated and enthusiastic (more than anybody I have ever met before) and extremely kind-hearted. He was one of that guys who didn’t know how attractive they are which made him even more attractive. But what was so mysterious about him: although he was always cheerful you could actually tell from his face that he wasn’t happy or satisfied. When I was a little there were these games at kids’ festivals where a flexible string was attached to childrens’ back and they would try to run as far as they can but would be held back by the string. That is how Gumbo felt to me. He tried to move on but something held him back. Some friends of mine noticed it too and we came to the conclusion that this string was his girlfriend. They had been in a relationship for almost 10 years at that time.

I on the other side had been living a single life around that time for almost 10 years and I didn’t have this string attached. I was running fast and straight forward. I was satisfied, adventurous and - most important of all - happy, at least to him. And he thought if he would cut the string and run with me he would be just as happy. So he did. He cut the string and ran off with me.

That was in 2015. And until mid 2016 he seemed to be happy. Or maybe he was.
But then the string came back. Maybe string is the wrong word. Because it was not that gumbo couldn’t move forward. Maybe this time it was more of a heavy backpack. He moved on but it was hard. There were days where gumbo couldn’t get out of bed. There were days when we were going out with friends and he was just sitting there staring into nowhere. There were days when he didn’t even want to kiss or touch me. There were days where I thought that he didn’t love me anymore. That he had just liked the idea of me... that i was strong, adventurous and independent. That he needed me to cut off the string and now has no use for me anymore. But there was something about his behaviour that seemed familiar to me.

He told me that there was fog everywhere and that he couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t see me.

I have cases of depression in my family. I have family members who can’t get out of bed on some days. I have family members who go to therapy every week.
And that is when I noticed: the string attached to his back had never been his ex girlfriend. The backpack on his shoulder was not about me. Maybe he was suffering from depression. I told him about my suspicion and he told me that he had been thinking about this as well.
Around that time he cleaned out his room at his parents’ house and found an old diary in which he wrote about not being happy and not achieving enough... at the age of 15. So the feelings he had weren’t new at all.

Gumbo decided to see a doctor and several psychological tests confirmed what we had been suspecting: he is suffering from a medium-heavy form of depression. At first gumbo said the doctors should just prescribe antidepressants and then everything would be fine. He soon noticed that it wouldn’t be that easy.
So he went to therapy once a week for one and a half years. There were ups and downs at that time but overall gumbo started getting better. The days when he was all covered in fog became fewer. Even the psychologist told him that he was making great progress and he can stop with the therapy. That was in spring 2018.

But now the depression is back at its fullest extent. Maybe it is because of Gumbo’s job that he dislikes. Maybe it has something to do with me.

The problem is: neither of us wants to admit that depression is something that stays with you forever. We haven’t stopped fighting it yet. And we hope to succeed over it at some point. That is why we started this project.

Loving somebody who is suffering from depression is about not taking things personally. That is really hard. Because when gumbo has a bad day, it is not always about me.
Loving somebody with depression means you can’t consider yourself superior because you are healthy. That is harder than one might think. You cannot think that your way of living is better because you are healthy.
Loving somebody with depression means, you can’t blame everything on depression. Because sometimes the person has the right to be upset.
Loving somebody with depression means you have to accept there is more than one reality. There is yours, there is his and there is the dark and twisted reality of depression.