This is a tough one. I have a depression similar to Ian's (and I'm currently on two medications to control it) to which most of the folks I went to college with can attest.

Anyway, what my husband does is when he notices there's a problem and that I'm depressed, he'll ask, "Hon? What's wrong?" and we start talking. He refuses to take "I don't want to talk about it," as an answer, but that's just how he is.

Recently, when I had an extended funk, I at least made myself go out and walk around downtown Seattle. It did nothing to improve my mood, but it kept it from getting worse.

Between the two of you, I know you'll come up with a solution.