The fact is I want to trust you, but I don’t. You’re my wife for goodness sake, how can I not trust you?
Marie, I know you are feeling the brunt of my depression. I know you haven’t seen your husband – the real guy you married – in a long long long time. I know I’ve been distant, unengaged, I’ve pushed you out physically, emotionally.
I’m sure you feel as though I’m a burden right now. I’m sure you are feeling as though I’m abandoning you right now. I’m fairly sure you are feeling resentment toward me for leaving right now to get treatment. You have expressed to me you don’t want or think I need to go. I know you are scared.
But the thing I am coming to terms with, painfully, is that I don’t trust you.
When you get up before me in the morning, I don’t know the mood you’re in. Will I get coffee bedside, or will I get abruptly woken with an impatient list of todo’s and questions about my day?
When I confess something from deep in my heart, will you store it and bring it out later to hurt me?
What hurts the most this week is this. I was really trying to keep my upcoming treatment a secret from the world. However, as I decide to share what I am gong through with friends and family, I have felt overwhelming support. “Good for you”, “That is so brave”, “I’ve been through something similar, let me share with you”,”I wish you had told me sooner.”
But from you – “I feel like you don’t want to be here. This isn’t the best thing for our family right now”
Marie, it saddens me to say, I don’t think I trust you . . . with my heart.
I wish I could cry, but I can’t. I physically can’t.