It's Complicated

You’ve found “the one” and fallen in love, but there’s something you hadn’t bargained on – and it could derail it all. Here, three writers reveal their unorthodox relationship journeys

LOVING A MAN WITH DEPRESSION

Alice, 33, met Tom, 34, at university. They’ve been married for five years.

We’d been looking forward to our friend’s engagement party all week. But as I breezed into the kitchen, my lips newly rouged with Chanel Pirate, I realised with a sinking dread that we wouldn’t be going anywhere that evening.

My husband was pacing the room, hands wringing, his features distorted by fear. He was so, so sorry, but he couldn’t face all those people. He didn’t want to ruin my night – “Please go without me,” he said. I felt deflated; it was the second time he’d done it that month.

Tom has suffered from depression since the suicide of a close friend 13 years ago. He’s part of a tight-knit group and comes from a large, loving family, though neither are demonstrative. As a result, he’s skilled at putting on a brave face. In the early days of our relationship, he masked the severity of his symptoms behind a sybaritic existence of extravagant nights out and big romantic gestures. He briefly talked about his darker periods, but it was hard to reconcile my charming new boyfriend with the established image of depression. I thought depressives were introverts who stayed in bed all day. In contrast, Tom was the last to leave the party. He loved food and culture and history – and me. Every day with Tom was an adventure and I didn’t want the good times to end.