You don't get my best if you can handle the rest

I have been married to my husband for a year now.  Although he knows about my past he has never experienced a melt down.  Lately, I have been struggling with cycling. I don't know if it's stress or if I need some med adjustment. But he seems to be in some kind of denial that I am getting sick.  I have been telling him that my anxiety has been kicking up more than usual. My insomnia started a little over a week ago. I told him this morning I was going for more help. That despite all efforts I was beginning to sink. He actually told me he didn't believe there was anything wrong with me. That I don't have any illness and that I bought into a diagnosis because that's what a doctor said. Needless to say it got ugly.  I had a mini-meltdown. In about 15 minutes I went from calm to outraged to crying to laughing to crying to angry.  He sat there silent listening to my ranting. Finally I just stopped and I told him. You don't get the best of me if you can't accept the rest of me. Then with a stone face he said "why are you acting this way". Then as calmly as I could I informed him that THIS is why I need help. That whatever he thought or heard about BP probably was just crap. That just because my meds HAD worked didn't mean I didn't have an illness that sometimes gets the best of me.  I asked him why he would want me to feel this way, I asked if he was ashamed of me, I asked how long he thought he would stay with me if this is what our life would be like. I left the room with tears falling faster than a rainstorm. I didn't say another word. For those of us who's lives have been destroyed time and again, we fear it will always be that way. That it is always a matter of time before it destroys everything good in our lives. He came to me, put his arms around me, looked me in the eye and said I am not ashamed.  Go see the doctor if that's what you need. I love you and I will always be here. Everything is going to be alright. I am still crying as I write this at his sincerity and tenderness. Maybe this time I have a fighting chance at happiness.