From the shadows: My story of supporting the love of my life with mental health
This Mental Health Awareness Week, my husband Craig has encouraged me to pen some thoughts on my journey with depression – and at least one episode of serious acute mental distress – as his key support person. This is simply the sharing of my experience in the hope that others supporting loved ones with mental illness relate, feel comforted that they are not alone, and recognise that their own resilience and wellbeing is also vitally important.
I think it is important to say at the outset that I am not a mental health professional and nothing I share is intended as advice in any way or form. I am just the dedicated, loving wife of a pretty awesome guy and together we are raising four pretty cool kids. We have had some wicked adventures and navigated some of life’s challenges and experiences together over the last 20 years. Like all couples, we also have the ability to frustrate the heck out of each other and argue like the best of them. But our relationship is underpinned by a deep respect for each other and a commitment to keep coming back to the strong foundation of our marriage – even when that foundation gets rocked. And boy oh boy has it been rocked.
Loving someone with mental health struggles is enough to challenge any relationship. I’ve heard it said that depression builds walls around and between people and it can sometimes feel like you have lost the person you fell in love with. Knowing Craig struggles with depression leaves me feeling so incredibly helpless at times. There have been nights that I have silently cried myself to sleep wondering what more I could do.
When he was on medication for depression all of his emotions seemed dulled – including his ability to show empathy and compassion. When he took himself off that medication cold-turkey without letting me or any health professional know (on more than one occasion) the unpredictable behaviour spiralled. At times I was uncertain how he was going to show up when he walked through the door in the evening – was he going to be aggressive and short-tempered, intolerant of the kids and me? Or would he be withdrawn, absent and uninterested? I used to hope, for my sake and that of the kids, that he would show up as the man I fell in love with.
Depression often affects a person’s sense of worth – and lack of worthiness affects depression. It is hard when Craig feels he is not worthy of the life we have created. I have stopped trying to make sense of it though – there are not always obvious, or what I would consider logical, triggers.
As more and more people are courageously sharing their personal journeys with mental health challenges, their vulnerability is reaching and impacting so many people in powerful ways. I am so proud of the impact my hubby is having in this arena – he is so strong, so brave, so authentic and so inspirational. Each time that he shares aspects of his story, we are blown away by the sheer number of people that take the time to reach out and share the ways hearing his story has impacted them.
What we have come to realise though, is that very rarely do the support people have a voice. Yet for everyone out there suffering from poor mental health there is at least one person, who is not a mental health professional, playing a key front-line daily support role. I know first hand what an isolating position that can be.
Feeling responsible for the mental health of someone you love can be a heavy burden and because of the personal nature of the relationship the luxury of professional boundaries do not exist. When I consider why the support people may not have a voice I go back to my own experience. The greatest reason for me is that I have felt strongly that it isn’t my story to tell – it’s Craig’s story – and I have wanted to maintain his privacy. Yet, in our case at least, I now see it has become a shared journey – a shared story.
Being the loved one of someone with depression can be exhausting. I remember asking our mutual GP once what I could do and her advice was to just cling on to him with whatever thread I could. It has certainly felt like that is what I have been doing at times. It has been important to me to acknowledge that I don’t have all the answers but that I am hanging in here for the journey as long as it takes. With my nutrition and lifestyle medicine background I support our wellbeing through healthy diet and lifestyle factors but sometimes the best I can do is climb into that hole with Craig, hold him, and let him know I am there with him until he is ready to make his way out.
It’s hard though. When Craig withdraws I want to bust down that wall and be let back in. I do try to just ‘be’ – reminding him I love him and I’m here for him, but I don’t always possess the wisdom to respond in the right way. I guess there is no guide book for this kind of thing and it’s okay if you don’t always respond perfectly or in the ‘right way’ as a support person – you’re not going to get it right all the time.
Recently Craig shared some of his mental health story to a large audience at Xerocon Brisbane, which was also live streamed to Xero team members around the world. This included a retelling of an episode of acute mental distress where Craig believed we would be better off without him and made plans to put that into action. I was given livestream access to his keynote so I could watch it at home in NZ.
In the days leading up to the event I noticed that Craig’s resilience was down. I was worried about the possible impact of the talk on him, so with his permission reached out to a couple of key Xero’s to ensure they kept an eye on him and created some time/space for him after his keynote, rather than heading straight back into work. Organising support for Craig also provided reassurance for me and reinforced what I already knew – reaching out for help is most definitely not a weakness.
On the day, I logged in and watched an incredibly powerful and moving recount of Craig telling his story. We had gone through the keynote together prior to the event so I thought I knew what to expect. But I hadn’t expected it to be as triggering for me as it was – I watched it at home by myself and it brought back many intense emotions. When I spoke to Craig a few minutes after he came off the stage he was in quite an emotional state and it was so hard to not be there and just hold him. I was, however, comforted that he was not alone and had support with him. Once I got off the call though, I experienced a massive pang of isolation. Here I was, all alone, in a different country to my man, feeling a myriad of strong emotions that I wasn’t sure what to do with. I suspect it is common as the support person that we wrap support around the other person and overlook our own needs, and in this particular situation that hit me hard.
For the first time I also realised how rare it is for someone to offer a shoulder to the support person (or at least rare for me to recognise when it’s happening!). Usually when it comes to something like this I field questions about Craig from those checking up on him – and rightly so. But when I was sitting there, feeling vulnerable and isolated, I realised what a difference it made to have someone acknowledge that actually, this was hard for me too. I had never even really noticed this until the recent Xerocon experience when an amazing colleague of Craig’s was watching out for him and keeping me up to date on how he was doing. While she worked to move his flight home earlier by a day she also kept reaching out to check on me and ask what she could be doing for me. There was something about the way it was done that was so genuine and so authentic that I still feel comforted typing this. I realised how rare it is to have felt this supported and how needed the receiving of genuine care and compassion for support people is.
I felt like this response and offer of support from Nat validated how I was feeling and gave me the permission I needed to check in on my own wellbeing and listen to what I needed to do for myself. I cleared my diary for the next day and spent the day practising my own forms of self-care and self-compassion. This ensured I could process some of my own emotions so that I could be there for Craig, holding space for him, when he got home. This self-care is so essential for support people. It isn’t something I always do that well – especially without guilt – and I am definitely still a work in progress, but it’s important to recognise that we are all worthy of making time for.
Off the back of the Xerocon keynote Craig engaged with professional support offered through Xero’s EAP and they offered to support me too. Funnily enough, this is another area that I have ensured Craig has had support over the years but have never considered for myself. I have decided that the beautiful gift we get out of the experience of Craig sharing some of his story so publically and powerfully is the opportunity to both experience another level of healing and bringing back awareness of how important preserving our own wellbeing is. I had my first support person EAP session last week which provided me a safe and nonjudgmental space to share openly for the first time my experience of my husband planning to end his life – my pain at realising the depth of his pain, the hurt that he would leave me with four young children, and the niggling ongoing fear that he would one day action his well thought-out plans.
What I’m learning is that much of this is our shared journey and story, and that both parts deserve a voice. Mental illness is brutal, with potentially devastating outcomes, and can be such an incredibly difficult thing to support a loved one through. It’s important to recognise that if you are supporting a loved one, you too have your own story.
This Mental Health Awareness Week I challenge you all to follow me in exploring your own way to wellbeing. In addition, if you know someone who is a silent support person, now is the perfect time to reach out and let them know they are not alone. Take the time to explore the experiences, actions, relationships and surroundings that make you feel good and support the precious treasure that is your wellbeing.
Beautifully written. We have had similiar trials here. So so much love to you and your family xoxo
So much love right back to you Natalie xx
Thank you for sharing. I too support someone with depression. It can be exhausting and, in the UK at least, there is no support.
No help with what to say and what not to say. No awareness of the hyper-vigilance of looking out for signs that things may be taking a turn for the worse, or guilt at wondering whether you’ve missed an early signal. Lack of counselling for them, let alone me.
Fortunately I’m strong and resilient enough to bounce back so no sympathy required but action to support the supporters who are there when the professionals aren’t.
Hi Della, thank you for your comment. My experience is that there is no guidebook on what to say and not to say etc, and that guilt is a tricky thing that I really relate to. Supporting the supporters is key, and that requires us all to lean in. But I cannot stress enough how important continue to pay attention to your own wellbeing and continuing to foster your resilience is – being strong and resilient is not a static state and we all have to keep checking we have something left in the cup to pour from. Hugs xx
Dear Della,
Living with a person who suffers from depression can lead to your own self doubt and cause numerable problems in a relationship whether it be with a spouse, son, daughter or sibling. In many cases it leads to your own confusion and depression. To understand is difficult but a good friend like someone you can trust and who will listen, helps one to see things in perspective. I speak from my own experience, so I can appreciate your words. A relative is not a good person to choose as they are too close to you and they don’t need to be involved. A Counselor is a good choice because talking about your situation can iron some things out for you and he or she is likely to know what the carer is feeling.
Thank you for helping me as well.
Oh what a nerve you have hit here. Building my business around supporting people with mental health issues has come about from my own personal experience, very much like your own. I’ve always found it incredibly difficult to find my voice and story around why I do what I do, because I feel it is not my story to tell. Thank you for the reminder to take care of myself too, sometimes the mental load doesn’t stretch that far. x
Oh Nicky, I did not know this about the inspiration for the incredible work you do. Checking that you are not pouring from an empty cup is vital for maintaining your own wellbeing, as you well know. I hope you feel empowered that you do have your own story and I would love to hear yours. Bron xx
Maybe one day 🙂
Thank you for sharing this!
I went up to Craig at Xerocon and thanked him for bravely sharing his story. I told him that as a wife in a very similar position I knew it was hard for him to tell of his struggles. I said I wished I could say the same thing to you! Hang in there, sister! It’s a rough ride but we love our husbands dearly and that is what keeps us going! Love to you and your family!
Thanks Rebekah for your message, you now have been able to say the same to me! Craig sometimes ask me wonderingly why I have hung around and the answer really is as simple as that – I love him. Much love to you and your family also xx
Thank you so much for sharing Bronwyn. I was privileged enough to be at Xerocon and listen to Craig speak. You are both inspiring and I thank you both for bringing to light the challenges of depression from both angles.
Ngā mihi nui ki a korua.
Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me Wyndi. Craig’s story is very powerful and we both feel privileged to give a voice to those that may not feel they have one just yet. Much love xx
Hi Bronwyn – What an awesome article. I have a teenage daughter who has been fighting depression for over six years and your article resinates. There is no “real” playbook on how to help those suffering and you do feel you are constantly walking on egg shells either afraid of saying the wring thing or reacting the wrong way to a comment. And, you always feel worried when your mobile goes and you see it’s from XXXXX and you think oh my god what’s happened. It’s incredibly hard to ever truly relax and unwind as you feel constantly on guard. Craig is an awesome guy and just by opening up is helping so many people and your article has/is doing the same for those who are supporting people with depression.
Hi Bob, thanks for sharing what supporting your daughter feels like for you. As you can see, many of us resonate with these experiences and it is important we consider the toll it takes on us too. Craig is an amazing guy and it is the way he has opened up about his health that has given me permission to tell mine. Hugs for you, it isn’t easy xx
I was at Xerocon and saw/heard Craig speak. I was fine until he finished, then it all became too much. I burst into tears, I don’t mind admitting. I am there for my wife whenever and doing whatever I can to make it easier. But really, I have no idea what is the right thing to do. Hearing Craig speak just sent a million emotions through me on how my wife must feel some days. Some days are tough, really tough. I’ve often thought that there is nothing ever written/said about those supporters of loved ones with mental illness. Because mental illness doesn’t just affect the person with this dreaded disease. It effects all those around them. Thank you for speaking out and being a voice for the supporters of those with mental health issues.
Oh Darren, how very brave and strong of you to allow yourself to feel and express those emotions. It is such a privilege to be giving a voice to the support people, I really want to let you know you are not alone. xx
Bronwyn, such a beautiful, honest and heartfelt article. Thank you for telling your story and you and Craig and such an inspiration to us all.
Thanks Debbie – you of course played a role in this with The Vulnerability Project. Craig and I are lucky to be such a great team xx
Thank you so much Bronwyn for your bravery and determination in speaking up and being such a great, supportive wife. My husband has battled with depression and anxiety. It can feel so overwhelming and lonely at times to be the support person, to know that I don’t always provide great feedback or say/do the “right thing”.
Hi Jacky, I absolutely hear you on feeling overwhelmed and lonely. You are most definitely not alone. There really is no rule book for saying the ‘right thing’, sometimes I just leave that to the professionals and focus on simply loving. Hugs to you xx
Wow! Super powerful message from both of you – Thank you Bron and Craig for sharing your amazing journey so that others can see the value in these shared conversations, and (in Craig’s words) that its OK to be not OK. Super Brave putting all of this out there, Thank you.
Thanks Sarah, there really is so much value in these conversations, it is our privilege to be part of that.
Thank you Bronwyn for being authentic and vulnerable! So very much appreciated. As Nicky says – you have hit a nerve. Sitting here having a good cry. Your story and so many of the comments shared resonate – not knowing the man that you married and love, not knowing who is going to greet you, being unprepared for the reactions to simple things, being at your wits end as to how to respond the right way, managing your own anxiety when times are dark – as Bob said in the comments – around a phone call from that person. I have been supporting my husband who has anxiety/ depression (for the past 11 years) as well as a daughter with PTSD post Christchurch earthquake (for the past 8). It has been a very lonely, isolating road because as you say – it is not my story to tell – it is theirs. I did access our EAP – and I don’t think that I would be sane without Suzannah – and as you said – value the space to be able to voice the sometimes unspeakable thoughts and feelings – your own hurt, anger, desperation – which seem unreasonable under the circumstances. She also reminds me that I am important – that I need to look after me (as you said – not pouring from an empty cup) even when that seems selfish.
Really appreciate everyone who has contributed to this thread.
Hi Petra,
Thank you for your heartfelt response. I love that so many comments from other people have resonated with you – I really wanted other support people to see that we are not alone and I get a sense that the sharing of comments has done that for you, just as your comment will be doing for someone else. As Maxine has said, engaging with professional support for yourself is really valuable. I am pleased that Suzannah has provided that safe space for you. For me personally, realising that I do have my own parallel and at times shared story has been empowering, but I do realise that I would not have been able to share my perspective in the public domain had it not been for Craig already bravely sharing his part story. You are important – so important. Keep filling up that cup. xx
Thank you Bronwyn for taking the time to respond to each of us individually. You are so right about not being able to share without the consent of those whose story it is – even though in some way this is your story too.
Thank you again.
Wow Bron, what a powerful and compelling story. So admire you for putting this in the public domain so others can take comfort that they’re not alone. You guys are pretty amazing!! Love and hugs.
Thanks Del, it is such a privilege to be in a position to share my part of the story and have it resonate with so many people. xx