long, LONG time lurker, 2nd time poster (I think)

I don't want to go into the history and breadth of my depression; suffice to say I am well acquainted with it. History of self injury with recurrent urges, history of suicide attempts (thankfully no urges yet), 1 hospitalization, on/off eating disorder, countless therapist/psychiatrists as well as a few trips around the pharmaceutical merry-go-round. I am currently receiving no treatment, and on no medication.

28 years old, female, employed full time, happily married, happy childhood with loving parents.

Now to the heart of the matter; this past month has proven to be exceptionally stressful for me. My father is in the final stages of his cancer battle. He is refusing all treatment and wishes to pass away at home in his sleep. He is rapidly wasting away, but since he refuses to see his doctor, we're not sure how long he has left, but we're pretty sure he's not going to make it to my birthday (mid August). About a week or two after discovering the extent of the cancer (and my father's final wishes), my grandmother had a stroke, lost her leg to amputation, and passed away in the hospital from an infection. All of this happened during a mandatory 2 week 'high work volume' period at work, wherein I can't take time off (automatically job dismissal if I do) because we are literally that busy. Preceding the 'high work volume' period I was commissioned by a client to do a special marketing initiative, however the client was unreasonable, I was/am new to the position, so ultimately the marketing initiative was a disaster.

and yet! Amidst all of that I also discovered I was pregnant (first child), but it was a chemical pregnancy so I lost it to miscarriage. I think I'm indifferent to the pregnancy; it was an 'oops!' baby so I wasn't exactly thrilled, but a small tiny part of me was excited. Ultimately I know the MC was for the best, since my husband and I are in no position (financially) to raise a child.

So here I am today; my father is still ailing, but work has slowed down and things with my grandmother are squared away (went to the out of state funeral, service was nice, got to see family-it was a good trip). 2/3 of my worries have resolved themselves, but I'm still so...depressed. I know stress can trigger a depression 'relapse', I know the prudent thing would be to seek out treatment, but I still feel like... I just can't do it.

I feel like a fraud. a weakling. 'other people have it worse', so why am I so bent out of shape about all of this? Its a life long refrain, and I still haven't found a means of shutting it down. If anyone else told me a story similar to mine, I'd think 'damn son, how do you still have it together? you deserve all the sympathy and hugs'.

But I don't allow myself that compassion. instead I berate myself for being weak and needy. I chastise myself for 'manipulating other people's emotions' [because in my eff'd up head, receiving a sympathy hug for grief = emotional manipulation]. I get viscerally angry at myself for not sucking it up, so angry that I want to punish myself physically. Every morning I wake up and cry, and I hate myself for that.

Its not that I feel like I have to put up an image of strength (although there is a little bit of that mixed in), its that I feel like I'm so wretched, so bad, wrong, evil, stupid, worthless, an affront to god himself, that I don't deserve any kindness. What crime have I committed to feel this way? the crime of existing apparently.

I know this is depression talking. I know this is a fabrication, a fraudulent tape playing in my head. I know that Wellbutrin and a couple rounds of CBT will pull my out of this. I know all of these things... and yet I still feel like...*sigh* it doesn't even matter since my feelings contradict reality.

So why don't I suck it up and receive treatment? My husband (and to a lesser extent, money). As wonderful as my husband is, he is severely distrustful of the psych community. A bit of back story, my husband's father had schizophrenia. However it wasn't diagnosed until his father was in his 40's, so my FIL had a good 20-ish years to cement his, well, unreality based thinking. Couple that with alcoholism, vagrancy, and family drama, and it wasn't a pretty picture. Finally my FIL got some treatment but it was fairly poor. The meds he was placed on turned him into an overweight drooling zombie who only had a few moments of lucidity. One day his father went off the meds (which was a fairly common occurrence since he hated the side effects) and the unreality based thinking quickly returned. Except instead of just wandering away for weeks at a time, my FIL castrated himself, and the bled out in the bathroom.

Suffice to say, my husband came away from all of that blaming the psych community for his father's (horrific) death. In addition, my husband was fairly traumatized when I was placed on an 2 week 5150 hold for self injury. I don't blame him for holding these prejudices, but I feel like.. his extreme distrust of the psych community is adding fuel to my "I don't deserve help" fire.

*sigh* I don't know what to do. I'm not about to untangle my husband's feelings towards the psych community, but his prejudice is playing a part in my reluctance to seek treatment. I know I'm hurtling down the path to an epic breakdown and SI relapse, and the only thing holding me back is my promise to my husband (and honestly, my inability to hide the evidence). I've tried broaching the topic with my husband, but I can see the terror in his eyes if I even hint at feeling anything more than 'sad'.

I've tried the alternatives or already employ them in my daily life; yoga, regular exercise, 8 hours of sleep, meditation/prayer, healthy eating, surrounding myself with friends/positive people, st john's wort, vitamins, etc. I don't think i'll be seeking out psych related treatment any time soon... so what else can I do?

Is there anything I can do? I just need something, because this hill is long, its steep, and I know what's at the bottom.