I am so tired of trying to be semi-ok. I'm unhappy all the time but put on a face that at least I'm alive. In reality, I'm dead inside. I don't go out anymore. When I do, it's for a therapist appt. My husband drives me to Pdoc because I can't drive those confusing new connecting highways and it's an hour just one way. If I HAVE to go to a store, he comes with me meaning he drives. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't go at all. I never want to leave the house. I want to stay home and bury my head in my pillow--but I don't because I know I have to stay vertical as long as I can. BUT I DON'T LIKE THIS GAME. I don't like this kind of life and I want it to be over. I want it to be over but my husband put his pain meds in a strong box and hid the key. I came close to taking them before and he sent me to the psych hospital for help. My Pdoc told him that was the best way to do it. So now what. My mind says find another way. Some part of me says stick it out. But my symptom (bipolar depression) is not getting better. It's only been getting worse and worse for months. I talk to my Pdoc, he tweaks meds. I'm still dying inside. If I tell him, he will have me taken to the psych hospital. Any thoughts?