My boyfriend fell into a deep bout of depression a few years ago, and I found myself negotiating the illness’s tenuous boundaries: deciding when to drag him out and when to leave him alone, reminding him how much I loved him, expecting nothing more from him than the perfunctory motions of life. I wanted him to be better so badly, and I thought, if I could just figure out the right thing to do or say, he would be. I “knew” a lot about depression, namely that trying to love someone out of it is as futile as trying to love someone’s diabetes away. Yet that’s exactly what I did.

According to a 2016 study, there are an estimated 8.4 million Americans who provide care to an adult with an emotional or mental health issue. Of those people, 74% report feeling high emotional stress, and only one in three are themselves in “excellent or very good health.” Mental illness doesn’t happen in a vacuum, and its effects reverberate. Those effects are particularly pernicious when it comes to marriages: Another multinational study found that of the 18 mental disorders that were found to be linked to higher divorce rates, major depression was among the top three.

One of the reasons depression can put a strain on relationships is because often the caregiver is left without the proper resources. According to the 2016 study, a full quarter of the 8 million mental health caregivers claimed that they have trouble finding a mental health professional for their loved one. Even once a professional is identified, additional services are harder to find; a majority of caregivers report experiencing trouble finding day programs or treatment (64%) or peer support (58%). About half have difficulty arranging a case manager (49%), in-patient treatment (48%), or treatment for substance abuse (45%). Once those resources are found, many caretakers report difficulty navigating the insurance system to get adequate coverage. There simply are not as many resources or services available for mental health caregivers as there are for people caring for those with physical disabilities.

But it’s not just lack of medical care that can make the role of mental health caregiver a struggle. I was one of the lucky ones — I didn’t have to convince my boyfriend to get help or find him a doctor. Despite the fog of his depression, he wanted to get better and found a provider whose advice he was following. And yet, the loneliness persisted.

I didn’t understand that the more I dug in — the more I tried to “force” the depression out of him — the worse I was making things for both of us.

After my boyfriend had been depressed for several months, he said he needed “space.” What happened over the course of the next eight months is hard to describe. We went to therapy and re-drew the boundaries of our relationship. I moved out. We had moments — sometimes even weeks of them at a time — when we were connected, and he seemed to be there again.

Ultimately, though, his depression was the biggest thing there was between us. Sometimes my texts went unreturned, sometimes I had to attend family functions without him. Sometimes he was mean or I was impatient, or both — and we fought. I didn’t understand that the more I dug in — the more I tried to “force” the depression out of him — the worse I was making things for both of us.

It took me a long time to figure out what I wish I’d known sooner: I had to take care of myself if I was ever going to be of service to him. I can attest to the high stress levels and poor health that are found in the statistics about caregivers. In the beginning, I was barely eating or sleeping, and I walked around in a daze, wondering how we were going to find our way through his disease. Over time, with the help of some really good friends, I began to focus on myself: I started a blog and got published for the first time and built stronger friendships.

I was also one of the 43% of mental health caregivers who feel that their loved one can turn to other people for support as well. I was able to push through the stigma surrounding mental illness and reached out to his friends and family to help shoulder the burden. Many find that difficult, however. In the 2016 study, one parent that was interviewed said, “I would really like someone to bring me a casserole… Casseroles seem to be reserved for people with heart problems, cancer, and accidents.”

I eventually realized that ignoring my own needs was not helping my boyfriend get better. It wasn’t until I let go — accepted the fact that I could help him but not save him — that I gave him the space to recover. And eventually, he did.