The Talk

No, I don't mean that terrible daytime television show with Sharon Osbourne.

I also don't mean the talk you have with your preteen.

On Friday, I sat down and talked with Mr. Incredible about all that I had been dealing with.  While Agent P (our son) watched a movie, Mr. Incredible and I were able to retreat to the bedroom and just sit on the bed and talk.  I was so nervous and worried that he was just going to find me detestable.  That he wasn't going to understand because it's a battle he's never had to deal with.  I didn't want to "come clean" with my husband because I was ashamed.

He knew I'd been dealing with depression.  He saw me on the days that I had trouble getting out of bed.

I was able to tell him why.  I was able to express my fears about losing his love by my being overweight.  I was able to tell him about how hard it's been on me and about all the yo-yo-ing I've done.  I told him that it upset me that I wasn't a healthy mom for my son.  I told him that it was probably my fault that we haven't been able to get pregnant, since I'm so overweight and that messes up your ovulation.

I was able to tell him how I was consumed with this sin problem.  I laid it all out in front of him.  And then I stopped talking.  And waited to hear what he had to say.

And from his mouth came words of love.  And words of encouragement. And then he held me close and told me that we'd do it together, that he'd be right there for me through it all.  Because he loves me.  And he told me he always will.

I felt silly for having worried and put it off for so long.  None of the things I had worried about happened.  It's funny/sad how our demons can make us believe things that aren't true.  But if we step out and actually do something, they're shown for what they truly are: lies.