What does your love story sound like?

Warning: I'm not a professional writer, and I've had an emotional 24 hours. Bear with me here.

If you were to tell your love story, would there be a specific tone or theme?

Would it be cynical, romantic, comedic, or something else entirely?

Starting out, I would have said our specific theme would be comedic. Graham and I are goofy and silly together. I also would have considered our love story to be romantic. We were and have been at multiple times in our lives completely wrapped up in each other. In our house, if you walk around the corner, you may still find us kissing or hugging each other just because we want to express our love. (We don't do this if we have guests--no need to fear. That would be awkward.)

After 12 years, our love story tone has been altered to add the all-important theme of forgiveness.

Some of you may have easy-to-tell love stories that are pretty smooth, ordinary, loving, but amazing all the same.

But if you know us well, our love story has been anything but smooth. All I wanted in life was to find someone to love and to take care of. I was realistic in my hopes and plans for marriage, knowing that things wouldn't be all roses and never-ending fun. However, I had no idea what I was in for.

You see, Graham has anxiety and depression, as well as some childhood stuff he's been dealing with. He goes through yearly cycles of being fine, making one small mistake, then things snowball from there. In these compromised thought and behavior patterns, he makes poor and illogical decisions that affect those around him.

What is it like to be married to someone with a mental illness? (This is a sensitive topic, I know. But if we don't share, how does it become NOT taboo?)

• I have been a support person and a victim to this behavior. 
• I have participated in multiple therapy sessions.
• I have some emotional PTSD. 
• I get mini panic attacks when one thing slightly out of the ordinary happens.
• I get paranoid when things are going well.
• I have trust issues.
• I have shed a lot of tears.
• I think "what tf were you thinking?" way more than I should.
• I am exhausted from having to be the stable one and carry that emotional load.
• I feel isolated and alone, and I have had moments of deep despair.
• I feel like I'm married to someone who's constantly trying to ruin their own life by making stupid decisions.
• I am waiting for the other shoe to drop... every day of my life.

I have cried during workouts and long car drives, said "I didn't sign up for this", prayed myself to sleep, whined "life isn't fair", and screamed into my pillow. I try to be understanding and forgiving, but I also wonder if I will ever reach the point of giving up.

When Graham and I got back together in 2013, I knew things could happen again. We decided to only have two kids because of the additional stress of the underlying anxiety/depression. I have a hole in my heart where my third child (a boy named Barrett) should be. I work full-time in case things ever go badly. I participate in retail therapy instead of discussing my feelings. I have hoped for the best and prepared for the worst.

This is an incredibly heavy post. If you know me well, I try to make things light-hearted most of the time. This isn't one of those times. I am also trying to open up a little and be more vulnerable. Being vulnerable and open about how I feel is something I never do. All of my life, I have joked around with people to prevent myself from really sharing myself with others. Recently though, I have been more cringingly (is that even a word?) open about how I feel, even though it makes me want to stick a fork in my eye. (Like if you're reading this, and I have told you that I like hanging out with you--I don't normally do that. I would much rather tease you or make fun of you than do that.) Anyways, I wish I could really share more, but it's not my story to tell. But, this IS my love story. And our love story still has yet to be finished.

Thanks for reading. I was going to do my fitness update, but my life was temporarily hijacked.