It's been established that hubby, not having a mental affliction of his own (or at least being able to bury what he does have) cannot understand the "illness" aspect of my depression. I used a medication commercial as a springboard for an explanation and told him that my brain absorbs seratonin and/or norepinephrine too quickly, and my medication stops that from happening. When I am depleted of those chemicals, my brain isn't working right.

He still didn't get it. "But you're a very intelligent woman. How can your brain not be working right?"

Nothing to do with intelligence, I explain. It's a different function of the brain. Further discussion led to pointing out that if he ever fears I actually will harm myself, he should call 911.

Still no light bulb. "Just don't get like that."

*facepalm* We're at a stalemate. What can I do now?