June 4, 2010

PTSD and Depression, In Bed Together

The clock read 1:20pm and my stomach notified me it was long overdue for some lunch, but I'd been holding out hoping momentarily Bill would make his way downstairs.  Last night... correction, this morning he came to bed shortly after 4am, but that's normal for him, however remaining in bed past 1pm is not.

I made my way upstairs and sat on the edge of the bed, he wasn't really sleeping, just suspended in that portal through which we all emerge when waking.  "Are you doing okay?" I inquired, knowing he wasn't but wanting to give him the opportunity to explain what was going on and not lead in with "Look at the time, man you must be depressed!"

"I guess I better get up huh?' he said in a barely audible faltering voice.

"In your own time." I replied, getting up and kissing him on the forehead before making my way downstairs.  About 15 minutes later I heard him in the shower, which made me happy as he's neglected to both shave and shower for several days.

Depression.... pack your bags and go haunt someone else for a while, you've outstayed your welcome!

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