One night, I rushed out of the shower to find my 3-year-old son crying, covered in red paint, while my wife sat glued to her iPad. Frustrated, I realized something deeper was wrong.
She had been distant for a while, and that night, she ignored our son’s cries. Feeling overwhelmed, I took our son to my sister’s place and called my mother-in-law, hoping for answers.
She revealed that my wife was struggling with depression—feeling trapped and losing herself in motherhood. I hadn’t noticed her silent battle. With therapy and support, she slowly began healing.
Over time, she reconnected with her art and rebuilt her bond with our son. It wasn’t easy, but our family was healing, together.
Leave a Reply