it felt only right that today be the first post of dating with depression. I have lived with depression for a little over 12 years and gone through many relationships in my life – from one night stands to a 9 year, detrimentally toxic situation. I’ve learned a lot about who I am, how I am and the kind of person I require to be in a happy and healthy relationship. lucky for me, I met that person exactly one year ago today ❤
I remember the first time I saw him, it wasn’t exactly a ‘meet-cute’ (that happened a couple months later) because we met on Hinge, the app designed to be deleted **kudos to you if you’re like me and see this ad every few minutes on Hulu** he sent me the corniest reply to one of my prompts and to this day every time I tell the story it still makes me giggle. when I looked at his profile and saw where he lived, I almost didn’t respond; there was no way I was traveling over an hour just for a date. so I left his message sitting there for a little while, but the whole time I kept thinking back on it and smiling. he was someone who got me, and he didn’t even know me – I decided that it couldn’t hurt to have a conversation.
one year later, and he’s still here.
he’s seen me through a lot of rough times: the anniversary of my brother’s death and his birthday that followed shortly after, the death of my great aunt, the death of my great grandmother, hard times in school, struggles as a mom and single parent.. but nothing sticks out quite like the first time he really had to come to my rescue.
for the most part, my depression is triggered. I can go days on end in the best of spirits and then something happens and I just crumble. like every emotion I’ve ever had just decided to come visit for a day or three and it’s hard to focus or feel much of anything. and then there are the rare occasions, the days I wake up feeling like complete and total shit for seemingly no reason at all. those days are the worst because I’m at a complete loss on what to do to try and fix it – the sadness is just there and it stays there until it’s ready to move on.
I’d been open and honest about my depression with him, I felt like it was something he needed to know because some days it has a huge effect on me and how I carry myself. I needed him to know ahead of time that sometimes my mood was not his fault, and that I would do my best to communicate during those moments so that he wasn’t left wondering what he’d done to cause it. unfortunately, when it finally happened, there was nothing to say – there was no reason, no trigger, I was just very sad; and he stepped in without a moment’s hesitation.
he made my little humans breakfast and made something special for me but I couldn’t eat. curled up in a ball under the blanket, I remember hearing his footsteps as he crossed the room and sat my plate down on the desk. he climbed back into bed with me and held me close, then he said, did something happen? I shook my head no. you’re just feeling a little sad? I shook my head yes. can I hold you? I shook my head yes one more time and he pulled me in closer and just held me; he held me until I didn’t need to be held anymore. his embrace was healing, for the simple fact that no one had ever done that for me before. I didn’t have to feel ashamed, there wasn’t someone telling me I was overexaggerating or ‘being extra’. he made me feel safe and showed me that even if he didn’t fully understand, he was trying to.
I will always be grateful to him for the moments he’s stood by my side and been everything I needed him to be.
finding him took time and a shit ton of heartache and pain. I had genuinely started to settle into the idea that it’d just be me and my little humans for the rest of my life, and I was honestly okay with that. I have never been more happy to have been wrong.
three hundred and sixty five days ago, I smiled because he was there. today, I’m smiling because he’s still here.