The last two weeks in March, everything turned around. He seemed happy, genuinely happy, he was trying to spend time with me, actual time. Something that I had been requesting for years and not getting, there were no qualifiers, such as; "I'll go and do this with you, but so you know I am doing it for you." Statements that implied, "you are forcing me" there was none of that. And that was much of the reason that I had stopped requesting, nobody wants to feel that the person with them doesn't want to be there. We went and did fun things, I felt that the anti-depressants and counseling were really working and we really might be able to work things out. I still wasn't eating much, but it takes a little while to change gears, which should have made me realize that it should have taken longer for these things to work, but I didn't want to question, I just wanted my life back, where I didn't have to worry constantly where and what state I might find him in if I left him alone. I still spent so much of my time in the waiting rooms, but things were really looking like we would be able to make it out of this. Even if in the end we were not going to stay together, if he wasn't able to handle that type of life anymore, at least he was getting better and my son was going to at least have a father. But at this point staying together looked possible, I had not ever suggested to my husband that at the end of this separating was a possibly, working through each day seemed much more important than looking to the future. Still I didn't talk to anyone, but my sister who was taking care of my son a bit more than usual, did start asking questions, but everything was fine...