TL;DR: I'm improving. Leads to/coincides with wife claiming and/or having depression. Talks about pills to help. My brain says "Kill ego, be there for wife of 20 years." Heart says: You've learned nothing, still a chump and she has you right where she wants you.

Here's a new one for me. After shooting out of the gate, fucking up, regrouping and slowing everything waaay the hell down, I finally found a mode that felt right.

I really don't care if we have sex. I really do get that it's all on me. I actually do grasp that happy wife ≠ happy life, but rather happy me = happy we. I am having fun, and bringing fun home to the entire family. I've become conscious and practiced in flirting, playing and initiating in far more attractive ways than previous shitty, aggressive and socially-tone-deaf efforts.

And, the things I do, think and know - lifting, NGF, own my shit and lead to where my family needs to be ... have become ingrained, if not perfected.

I'm not listing all that to elicit 'look at me! give me that Internet pat!"

I list it to say that my actions and my internal perspective are all firing. And IF wife subscribes to this mode, all good; and if she doesn't — all good.

"I'm depressed."

That is the result (or at least, the response that has coincided with my efforts). My wife says she is, looks like she is, acts like she is depressed. It is almost palpable just being in her presence.

I don't know how to handle this. Am I dealing with a shit test? Possibly. Am I dealing with a true and serious case of depression? Possibly.

Here's what I can offer: She doesn't like my burgeoning independence from family when I head out to friends or hobbies; She does like the new and more positive and fun guy who comes home from work. She definitely likes the huge income I've clawed to the past few years. She tolerates the flirting, sometimes responds sexually (before depression) but hates the increased dominance in bedroom; it feels as if her rational mind overrides tingles, i.e. "Must not relinquish power"; (I move on if/when occurs, no issue).

With regard to the stated depression, she has made an appointment to talk to doctor. She will then go to a psychologist (female, guaranteed). She has already mentioned she'll 'probably get some anti-depressant pills" when she does.

My head is going: "Your wife is depressed. Be there, do what you have to do. It is legit, real, and serious. Be cool and do not contribute to worsening the situation by pushing your self/ish stuff in front of what she needs right now. Just do your thing, let her sort through this."

My heart is going: "Another, almost unbeatable excuse to avoid what you signed on for. If you don't want to have sex with me, that's fine. But don't pull this unbeatable story where you know I'm not allowed to respond - it's the nuclear option that still allows you to get all the good stuff. And, the "pills" are the perfect, ongoing "they kill my libido, hands off, I have to work through this."

Rock, meet hard place.

Put myself first: Your wife is seriously depressed, prescribed medicine to deal with it, and you still keep moving ahead focussed only on yourself? What if the worst happens? You fucking asshole.

Putting her first: You allowed her to imagine all this stuff, because she sees and hates that the good life could soon slip right out of her grasp after all these years... so she plays the trump card, sets up the perfect ongoing, never-ending story, and you fall right in line the second it happens!? Exactly as she knew and probably planned perfectly from the outset? You fucking asshole.

Which fucking asshole am I, exactly? How do you sort through something so seemingly incontestable?

FWIW, my plan at this point is:

Support her. Watch her actions. Is there improvement? Good. No? Need to talk about future. If pills kill the bedroom, set timeframe to say "glad they help you, time for you to understand what happens next with me if you have to continue."

What do you reckon?