Apparently a lot. Lots more than I gave credit to.
My husband is my rock, best friend, partner, cheerleader... I could go on and on. He is without a doubt, the most positive person I've ever been around. When I ask how things (projects, work) are going, the response 99% of the time is "Wonderful!". He calls as he leaves work to see if he needs to pick up anything and when I ask how he is then, he says "Amazing! On my way home to the most amazing woman in the world!"
(No joke, he REALLY does say that!)
He has continued to tell me how much he loves me, how proud he is of me and so much more. He tells me I'm beautiful. And he believes all of it.
The thing is, I stopped believing it. I stopped believing in myself. So I stopped caring about myself. I mentally and physically let myself go. I immersed myself in the muck and mire of negativity and have packed on the pounds.
I stay busy with work, volunteer activities and general busyness, but it's just busyness most of the time. I'd like to think what I do matters, he says it does, but if I were gone, wouldn't someone take up the torch and carry on? For most of it, the answer is yes.
I struggle with depression and dealing with medical issues, but in some ways doesn't everyone? You can't be Suzy Sunshine all the time. I can't lean on that crutch any longer if I want to heal, mentally and physically. I'm on meds, take them faithfully, but meds only you get you so far if you don't believe in yourself.
So, after all that, after taking care of me through two (so far) surgeries and continuing to work, he still believes in me. He believes that I am going to be much better after the next two surgeries. I am going to start anew. I probably will backslide, but as long as he's here to push, prod and encourage me, I'll be fine. Most of all because he loves me. And because I'm starting to believe again. Love has a LOT to do with it!