Today was a mostly silent lunch between my husband and I. He slept poorly last night and was depressed. He has been struggling with sleep and bad dreams for a while, but won't listen to advice to see his doctor or exercise or give up caffeine or any mundane suggestions from me. He's in a slog and I think he believes it will pass, and it may, without him taking any action. I see him suffering and fight the urge to "fix" the problem. I know it's not my business, but I live with him, and his misery is difficult to witness.
I let there be silence while we were at the cafe, because my several attempts at talking about a movie or a book that just came out fell flat. I'm more comfortable with silence than he is, because I meditate. But I wanted to be anywhere but there with him, and I felt embarrassed that we were exposed in our difficulties. It shouldn't matter, but I'm admitting I felt it. Now I'm going to go to see the movie we were going to see together by myself. I am not willing to stay in the house as if I had the flu. All I can do is tell him I'm sorry he's exhausted and miserable. That I have done. I have no magic to cheer him up. So I'm left to worry. And neither one of us is getting any help.
I would speak up and ask for help, but he won't. He doesn't think there is any help and I know there is, if only he would seek it. Stalemate.
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