Rising From The Depths

     Rising out of the depths of depression was slow.  The nightmares had disappeared, but the depression and paranoia were still hanging around and would drag my husband back into the darkness.

     During the first five years after we moved to Savannah, he spent many hours a day sleeping - to bed at 7:30, up at 6 AM, and there was usually a half-hour to two-hour nap each afternoon. When he was up and about, it seemed as though he had to defend himself at every turn, and was quick with a sharp response if I had a question or suggestion about what he was doing.  After writing about the shootout, his snarly retorts lessened

The egg shells were still crackling under my feet.

     After a few months, he slept less in the afternoon, and he looked forward to going to play duplicate bridge on Mondays and Fridays.  As a couple, we have always played well together and still do. However, I was always concerned with how he would react to someone else at the table when there were infractions of the rules.  He would become very quiet or tell them very quickly and tersely what they should be doing, or not doing.  

     In the early part of our marriage, he was happy, helpful and kind. For the past thirty-five years, my husband was not the man I had married, but finally, I saw some improvement. 

Now all I had to do was hang in there.

     He continued to write, and the year after the memoir was published, the first novel was ready to go to the publisher. His smiles appeared more often and his afternoon naps were just a time for meditation and relaxation. 

    

     A year later another novel, Operation Piňata, was published. During that year, we both worked diligently to prepare it and have it available on Amazon.  This was not the easiest thing for us, especially him, as most of the work needed to be done on the computer. Regrettably, we feel we are aging because technology is changing faster than we can assimilate it.  We need to give our publishers, Outshirts Press, kudos for all the help they provided. They were always kind and patient with us.

     A few weeks, after the work was done, we had time to relax, and I finally realized my husband was no longer napping in the afternoon.  When I said something to him, he said, “Yeah, I guess I’m not, and I feel okay.”

     Every now and then, PTSD drops by and fires off a blast of paranoia and depression.  Because I have not noticed a panic attack in the past two years, I asked him about them.  He replied, "I still have them but I can control them."

He is doing a great job controlling his nemesis!