I can relate to this. I have been in a good place for a while now. It has been a nice change. Talking with my sister the other night it struck me when she commented on how well I sounded. It was automatic for me to down play my condition. It was almost as though I still needed her to think of me as sick, to feel badly for me. I needed that special attention and was almost apologetic for not being unwell that day. I think now that I have witnessed it in me I might be able to search a little deeper to discover the motivation. Once there I might be able to find a way to meet the need in a healthier way.

Just as often I have communicated being well when I was not well at all. While I really appreciated it when my family took notice of my declining state it started to pain me more to see the worry on their faces or hear it in their voices. Particularly my aging dad. I hated how much he worried about me so I started to fake it with him.

The thing is that when I am unwell and admit it I get calls and emails from my family. When I am well and admit it or unwell and fake it the calls and emails fall off. I guess it should be obvious I crave their attention though I would be hard pressed to admit that to them. If I were to admit that I imagine the course of action would be to seek their attention in healthier ways. I could initiate more contact rather then waiting on them. I could believe in myself more and consequently be less needy of others to affirm me.

I can get pretty nasty with my son sometimes. I hate myself afterwards but in the moment it can be hard to pull back. I get so caught up in my sourness and the rage that I don't know how else to function. When my depression broke a while back I was afraid to trust it. I seemed to hold on to the more familiar sadness just because it was familiar and because it provided me with the walls that kept people away. It served as a banner to everyone to stay away. If I started to be happy and sociable and the depression hit again I would be trapped. I would have to build up the walls again. I would have to rehang the banner.

It was a few weeks of stable before I trusted it enough to share the good feelings with anyone. Even then I experienced a kind of identity crisis. I had been in a mostly depressive state for months and didn't relate to myself when it broke. I found myself sort of acting depressed just to feel familiar with myself.

I did rediscover the gift of sharing kindnesses again because I wanted to and not because I was obliged. Especially with my son. As I gradually started to laugh out load again and engage in activities again and do things to make my son happy I got more comfortable with it. At first my son looked at me with suspicion. Was she manic and did he need to expect a crash or was she okay. He didn't know but as the good days pile onto one another with only minor blips he seems less throughtful of the why in my mood change and more engaged in spending time with me while my mood is good.

I hope you find the answers you seek. 28 years is a long marriage by today's standards. He must love you dearly and feel the love from you amid the storming.