The ship and the storm

As my husband continues to live in the heavy truth that is his current season, I find myself humbled by his honesty and his openness.

I don’t know if I could be that brave. Even now, as I write this small entry examining my reaction to this, I am wary of what to put on the page. Just how far down the rabbit hole do I want you – the reader – to go.

I have, over the course of my life, been accused of over-sharing. I have also been accused of not giving enough of myself and it is difficult to find that balance. There is so much of my inner world that people just do not see, nor – truly – does it matter what they see as I am a big believer in what is important to you personally doesn’t have to be of any interest or concern for someone else.

I am not making sense.

In my desire to express myself in a way that can be understood by all – and not be misconstrued  – I am unable to express myself at all.

And here is where I envy my darling husband. In the midst of this storm he is standing firm on the deck of his tossing ship and naming exactly what he sees. He is in reality, facing it head on with all the honour and strength he holds.

I am immensely proud of him.

I already know that I would not have to same strength to face such a battle. When I was suffering from overwhelming anxiety, I hid from it and I hid it from others. I sort help but did not take the advice necessary to get better faster. I looked at my storm and called it many different names.

But I am thankful, in the end, for the storm and of battles won because now I know some of what he is facing. And even though I doubt my own honesty, openness and honour, at least I can stand on the deck of his ship right along with him.

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