dear hero,

To the Man who married a broken Woman:

On behalf of every lady who struggles with mental illness and body image issues, we say thank you. You are truly a hero. Not a day goes by where we don't sit back and quietly admire your strength all while thanking God for you. Why? Because you stand by us in our battles. You help fight our battle and if we look closely, many times you are the only one fighting our battle.

Thank you for all those times that you hold us close and tight knowing full well that we can't feel anything. Thank you for the way you allow us to fight off an anxiety attack with no judgment. Thank you for knowing that the feeling of water cascading over our faces can somehow help depression. Thank you for not judging us when things have to be a certain way because if they aren't, we will go into a full blown anxiety attack.

To the man that has carefully wrestled a knife, pills, or gun out of his wife hands. Thank you. Thank you for enduring the trashing that often comes when you have to hold us back from the knife. Thank you for picking us up off the floor and carrying us to bed while fight for the one thing that would take our life.

To the man that has found his wife on the floor in the middle of anxiety attack. Thank you for learning how to cope with those. For somehow knowing when we need to be held and when we simply need your presence in the room. Thank you for not allowing us to hyperventilate when we can't seem to breathe. Thank you for quietly reminding us of truth and attempting to bring things back into perspective.

And to the man that keeps a careful journal of the food his wife has eaten. Who watches her every move during a meal. And asks multiple times a day what she's eaten. To that man who makes certain he knows where his wife is following a meal. To the man who looks at his wife and reminds her of how beautiful she is.

You are valuable. You are necessary. You are appreciated. We may not tell you enough, but we couldn't do this without you. We love you, we are thankful for you, we applaud you, and we cheer you on.

i felt today.

Here I am being completely and totally raw. I am being real, personal, and vulnerable. Some days I feel everything while some days I feel nothing. Other days I feel some things and a few minutes later I am utterly numb. It's part of the process, it's part of the depression and the anxiety.

But today I felt everything. I think it's because I allowed myself to. I slept through my husband getting ready for work. So I woke up alone with my thoughts. I cried because I miss our Uncle that we lost a year ago today. At one random moment I fell into a daze as I recounted that day. I walked slowly as I remembered the pain my husband suffered through. I watched him lose his first loved one since we had been together. Then I watched his strength starting that day and lasting up until today. We drove to San Diego to be with his family on that Tuesday morning. We both cried off and on and we both grew that day. Our relationship grew stronger as we weathered death for the millionth time together.

I was feeling everything today and that is because I wasn't scared to, I allowed those feelings.

Then I got the news tonight. The news I had been dreading and avoiding for months. The kind of news that isn't the end of the world but shatters your heart. And now, now I can't feel anything. I feel numb again.

Unfortunately, that is how it goes. It sucks and I hate it and it is painful. But I am fighting and I am pushing forward. And I am choosing to believe Romans 8:26. Choosing to believe that even when I am numb, that I can still pray and that Christ will still hear me.

"In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans."
Romans 8:26 NKJV

mornings.

Mornings are really rough. But probably not for the reason your thinking.

Lately I have come to the realization that I do not like to talk about or acknowledge my depression because it makes people squirm. Because according to the church (I am talking the global church), a Christian should never be depressed. Because the stigma that society has attached to depression is rather sickening and in my opinion makes depression worse. I am not proud of my depression and every time it hits, I wish more than anything that I could run away from it. I. Hate. Depression.

But I am done hiding from it, and I am done pretending like it isn't a struggle in my life. I no longer allow room for judgmental people to speak hurtful things. I know that dealing with depression is not for everyone and that is ok. I am thankful for the friends or should I say "family" that have chosen to stand by me and support me through this struggle.

My depression has been pretty bad these past few months. Mornings are always the hardest part of the day for me. I always wake up tired, no matter how much sleep I get. I can't be awake for longer than two hours before I have to have my coffee. My alarm clock goes off and my heart hurts.

"Gold" by Sir Sly blasts 3 different times every 10 minutes until I wake up. I have come to resent "Gold" (shouldn't choose a song you really love to wake you every morning) as it comes as a sad reminder that every move I make for the next three to four hours will hurt. Some mornings hurt so bad that I am certain I won't even make it out of bed.

Mornings are a terrible reminder of how weak I am. The sun hits me and I am reminded that the day is going to be hard. I will have to fight to get through it. Sometimes mornings feel the darkest. I have to wake up early and I have to be social. I think a lot of it revolves around the fear of not knowing how bad my depression and/or anxiety will be that day. Waking up just as tired as when you went to bed is a really difficult concept. But every morning I wake up and it hits me, "I am so beyond tired". "I am going to have to fight like crazy to make it through this day". The thought passes through my mind that an anxiety attack could hit me at work, at church, or even while I'm driving. One little thing could hit me where I am sensitive and before you know I am thrown into another bout of depression. I am fighting to keep my head above water.

I am alive and I am sensitive. I am feeling everything the morning holds. I am trying to run the race with joy and not fall into a state of depression.

But I'm thankful because even the most difficult morning brings the most beautiful reminder of Gods grace. The various struggles I face every morning also remind me that God is good and He is so full of grace. No matter how low my mornings feel, God is always faithful.

Always.