5⃣ After one of my trips to Maryland, I came home and Adam shared with me some really scary thoughts he'd been having. I asked, If this were me, coming to you, what would you tell me to do? He looked me in the eyes and said, I'd want you to get help.
So he did. He got help. He also stated a new job, and started on medication. We began to see the light return to him. It was incredible the transformation that took place. I had never realized how bad things had gotten until I started to see my Adam come back to me. It was as if we both breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Ahhh. THERE you are. I've missed you." However, he wasn't "cured" - he still isn't. The other day Adam insisted I park the car a very specific way into the garage and in exasperation and frustration I threw my hands in the air and said, "I just don't understand!" His reply, just as frustrated as I was: "Yeah, well I don't either!" stopped me in my tracks. It was one of many realizations that he'll be dealing with this from now on.
I also began to experience true anxiety for the first time in my life. It was as if Adam's symptoms were rubbing off on me - sympathy pains, if you will. I have felt depression before. Anxiety is NOT depression. I understand they sometimes go hand in hand, but I learned for myself this past year what exactly the difference is. I asked Adam, is that what it feels like? The tightening of the chest, dropping of the stomach, restricted breathing and airways. Battling reoccuring thoughts. What I experienced was nothing to Adam's anguish, but it was enough.
In Maryland, we lived in an 1100 square foot house. We tripled the size of our house when we moved to Utah. At first it was nice - especially in the winter, don't get me wrong - but soon enough it began to feel heavy. It began to feel like "too much," and suddenly I couldn't keep up. The big was overwhelming. Our house was too much, our things were too time-consuming. Things felt disingenuine. Not real. Not mine. (This is part 5 of the #mroseannouncement)