It's that time of year, again, as evidenced by the moping and serious lack of getting-up-and-getting-your-ass-out-of-bed work responsibility, and a certain general laziness and irritability.

It's not me, but my husband, who has been suffering from the dreaded yearly depression.

Of course, he's been to more therapists than Mary-Kate Olsen. He's been diagnosed with several disorders that range from dysthymic disorder (probably) to bipolar disorder (probably not). Yes, he's been given many prescriptions for various medications, learned the tools to properly deal with the illness, and blahblahblah. He won't take medications. He just flatly refuses. Which is fine, until it comes back... ... ...

As a woman, and a successful woman at that, I still find it hard to allow him to lose yet ANOTHER job because he can't get himself out of bed. I find it hard to be supportive, when I'm so busy supporting. Maybe I am terribly hippocritical here, but I want my man to work. I want to be successful and know that I can support the family, but I don't want to be the ONLY supporter, you know? ? It makes me resentful, and I know that isn't helping him. Am I really that cold?

Alas, last week his depression threatened to take over COMPLETELY, so I begged and pleaded and made him call his mom, who talked him into getting on an antidepressant. So, now he's on one of them new fangled continuous release jobbies, and he's doing much better. Then, um, he tried to call his boss, who won't call him back. I do believe he's lost his job, again.