“We all fail at who we are supposed to be”. That is my favorite line from Marvel’s End Game because it feels like the story of my life. I had so many expectations for myself, that I could save my husband, that me being cheerful enough, hopeful enough, resilient enough, around enough, would make things all better. I thought that me just being there would be enough to save him from his depression. So imagine how crushing it was when those things weren’t enough. And it had nothing to do with my spouse. It wasn’t his fault I wasn’t enough and it wasn’t my fault I wasn’t enough. It was just how mental illness works. It isn’t my job to fix it, it isn’t my job to be the end all be all.