Tonight (last night since it's 4:30 AM?) as I lay in bed, I cried, "I think I might be getting depressed again. I'm just SO tired! I can't stay awake, and I hurt all the time, and I don't have the energy to do ANYTHING. And I'm scared."
Anthony sat next to me and calmly reminded me, "Hannah, bodies need to rest to heal. You've had a cold or something for two weeks and are on antibiotics; you've had a slice cut out of your back and your body is trying to heal itself there; you're coming out of a year-and-a-half of depression, and that's healing, too. I don't think you're depressed, I think you're just tired."
And I sighed in tremendous relief. "You're right. I am tired."
"Would you like me to stay home from work tomorrow so you can rest?" he asked.
"Yes!" I cried again. "But I can't! You need to work. And I can keep moving; I have to keep going."
He just patted my leg and said, "We'll see in the morning. Go to sleep."
So I did. Until about half an hour ago, when I dreamed all too realistically that the doorbell rang and someone knocked on the door until Anthony got up and answered it (because of course I'm not answering the door in the middle of the night!), and a familiar, distressed voice tearfully asked if she could come in. I came out of my room to find out what was wrong and... everyone was asleep; no one was here. So now I'm awake. And a little worried about that friend.
But I digress. What an amazing husband!! I love him more than I could ever, ever say.
P.S. I am very tired, but thankfully, I think I am not depressed.
Leave your thoughts and comments please!