During the course of our marriage, there may have been a time or two when I accused my husband of being uncaring when I was going through some major life changes, or dealing with lingering bouts of depression.
I would want him to step up and claim my problems as his own, to hold me as I cried. There have been many days where I laid all my frustrations and fears and deep-seated issues at his feet, when I should have been laid up on a therapist’s couch somewhere, putting my good insurance to use to get professional help.
Yes, our spouses are supposed to there to pick us up when we feel weak, or to console us when we’re scared, or simply having a bad day. But to expect them to examine you and improve your mental health all by their lonesome? Um, no. I don’t think that’s in the vows.