I’ve been sitting here for the last 20 minutes, with my iPad open, my keyboard ready and a blank screen staring back at me. Even though there’s a lot on my mind, I really don’t know how or where to start.

There’s been a lot going on in my personal life. Life is funny how it can feel almost boring when you sail through the regular up’s and down’s. Things can feel so routine; so ordinary. Like nothing much is happening at all.

But the second things become rocky, all you want is for life to be uneventful. You start to crave that boring life. And for good reason. A boring life means a happy life, in many ways.

As I sit here typing this, I’ve got all this playing on my mind.

It’s a delicate balance writing about my personal life. There’s a fine line between sharing too much and just enough. And I’m tip toeing around that line right now.

There’s a lot I want to write, a lot I want to say. I’ve spent a lot of Shabbat thinking about how to word this blog post. But maybe there is no ‘right’ or ‘easy’ way. Maybe there’s no other way than to jump right in and say the hard things.

And life has been hard lately — really hard, in fact, for quite a few months now.

I’ve written in the past about the need to break the stigma surrounding mental health, but I’ve never spoken about what it’s like to live with someone who struggles with their mental health.

My husband, Yosef, is a warrior in his own right. He has been battling a demon of his own for far too long. Having depression is one of the hardest things a person can go through, and I am in awe of his determination to overcome his demons and build a better life for himself.

While Yosef has been receiving treatment for his depression, I have kept our life together private. It is only upon his request that I am sharing this, in an effort to continue to help fight the mental health stigma. There is no shame in battling depression, and it is not a choice people choose for themselves.

There are so many people out there who are facing silent battles, who feel as if they are facing their demons alone. I’ve been there before countless times in my own life. It’s heartbreaking to think there are others who feel the same, especially when that person is your husband.

But I am also in awe of my husband, Yosef’s, strength, and his determination to get up each day, regardless of how he feels, and continue pushing.

Nobody has a perfect life. Even if the facade is flawless and shiny, you’ll never really know what lies beneath. There is so much we don’t know or understand about the lives of others. And if we don’t talk about our struggles, it’s so easy for others to feel alone.

Words matter. Talking about things matters. Writing about things matters. Because eventually, words will trigger change.

We are all here on this planet, working through our own individual challenges. And we are all just doing our best.

Sometimes ‘our best’ looks neat and orderly, like a row of newly sharpened pencils lined up in a row, and sometimes it looks like a bedroom floor covered in piles of dirty clothing.

But if ‘our best’ is all we can do, maybe that’s enough for now?

What if all we can expect of ourselves is to get up each day and continue fighting? What if that’s more than enough? Maybe not giving up is the biggest victory of all. Maybe ‘just surviving’ is one of our greatest triumphs.

I’m here to tell you that it is.