It’s not easy to struggle with depression and anxiety. That’s for damn sure. I didn’t choose it. But you did. You knew the battle I was facing and you chose me anyway. You believed that our connection was stronger than the deep-seated pain I attempted to put into words for you. You didn’t and still don’t always understand everything that goes on in my head, but you work with rigor and enthusiasm to learn about this illness.
I think back to last year when we were lying in bed watching Netflix, and a panic attack quickly settled in, wreaking havoc on my mind and body. You quickly grabbed your phone and began scouring the internet to find the most effective methods to care for someone trapped in the midst of a panic attack. There wasn’t a second of hesitation that day, or on any day for that matter. Your care for me never wavers. Your love for me is evident every time tears fill my eyes in exasperation, and you peer into what feels like my soul, to tell me you’re not going anywhere. On days when I can barely crack a smile it becomes your mission to see even a faint upturn of the corners of my mouth. You’ll dance around like a goofball, speak in our gibberish language, or quote lines from our favorite movies and tv shows. And goodness, I can’t even begin to explain how many flowers you have walked into our home with over the past three months.
It’s the competitive spirit within you that doesn’t allow you to quit. You have not and will not quit on me. You remind me of that every time I fall into your arms saying that I just can’t do it anymore. For three and a half years you took on this battle from a distance. So many would have deemed our relationship "not worth the trouble.” You didn’t see it that way. You seem to see things in me that I at times cannot see in myself. Love can’t take my illness away, but your love has surely given me life. You are my partner in this mess of a disease. And it’s your vision of what our future holds, that lights a fire beneath me and keeps my light from burning out. I wouldn’t want to miss out on the life we have spent countless nights dreaming of. It used to be my fear that no man could love me fully because of the unpredictability and erratic course of my illness. You have proved me wrong time and time again.
You don’t seek the praise of others, but if there were a medal for undying support, then you would be more decorated than Michael Phelps. I don’t write this to brag about you (although sometimes it’s hard not to), but I needed to find the words to thank you for everything. I never would have thought that being stubborn would have its merits, but in our relationship it is one of your golden traits. You are determined to out-stubborn my stubborn depression, and for that I’m truly grateful. The love I have for you doesn’t have a limit, rather it can only be described by what now feels like my trademark word: infinite. Thank you for answering my desperate Facebook message four years ago, and for sticking by me ever since. You are my hero. I love you, Adam. I love you more than I love a spoon and a jar of Nutella.