The note stuck out from a crack in my steering wheel, folded just so and placed right where you knew I would find it. I opened it gently, and my eyes blurred as I read the words scrawled in your handwriting.

We’ll get through this, I promise.

I cried, but for the first time in a while the tears weren’t from feelings of sadness . . . they were of love. Relief. Joy. Most of all, gratitude because you’re mine.

You’re mine. 

I often ask myself what I did to deserve you. You, who makes me laugh. You, who is my best friend. You, who supports me in my dreams. And you, who has been so faithfully loving me through this storm of my anxiety.

Almost five years ago we stood in front of our family and friends and promised to stick with each other for better or worse, through sickness and in health. How could we have known that part of our “worse” would come so soon, or that “sickness” would show up in the form of postpartum anxiety? That the woman you stood across from on that day would become so broken?

And yet, despite it all, you’ve held my hand.

You’ve taken the kids outside when I needed a few minutes of peace. You’ve made dinner when I couldn’t muster the energy. You’ve let me sleep and haven’t said a word when I forget to wash your socks or when there are no clean spoons in the drawer.

You’ve seen the wild desperation in my eyes when I was on the verge of a panic attack and you’ve taken over whatever task I was in the middle of so I could “have a minute”.

You’ve carried our relationship when I was too busy just trying to make it through the day. You’ve given me grace when I’ve snapped at you, knowing my reaction is the anxiety speaking. You’ve let me cry on your shoulder as you held me tightly and whispered reassurances into my ear.

You’ve patiently listened to my jumbled attempts to explain what I’m feeling, and even though your own lack of anxiety makes it hard for you to understand, you’ve never made me feel crazy, irrational, or dramatic.

And this morning, after a particularly rough night, you left a note in my steering wheel. In doing so, you lifted the clouds from my heart.

We have a way to go yet, my love. This storm is strong and heavy and powerful, but with your love as my shelter, I know there’s a rainbow waiting on the other side of this thing.

Thank you for being my rock in the midst of my brokenness. 

Thank you for holding my hand through my worse and my sickness.

Most of all, sweet husband . . .

Thank you for loving me through the storm of my anxiety.

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Casey Huff

Casey is Creative Director for Her View From Home. She's mom to three amazing kiddos and wife to a great guy. It's her mission as a writer to shed light on the beauty and chaos of life through the lenses of motherhood, marriage, and mental health. To read more, go hang out with Casey at: Facebook: Casey Huff Instagram: @casey.e.huff

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