Good day

Today was GREAT! Yesterday evening I was just so fed up, I ended up walking the dog late in the evening with my iPhone playing so I could escape the misery of homelife. My husband is struggling to tolerate me. I’ve felt like his arch nemesis most of the time. I could comment on the sky being blue and he’d accuse me of seeing things only my way, being self interested, selfish, etc, etc. I realised, the dude can barely tolerate me. And not only that but it’s making me feel shit. Although his response to that is, why should your self worth be based on what I think? But it’s pretty hard when the person you live with can barely stand to be in the same room as you. 

Anyway, I’m tired of being scared of saying the wrong thing and facing the wrath of years of pent up frustration and rage. And apparently three years ago I left the milk out and it went off – ok, that’s probably a bit too far, but you get my point. I’m a useless wife and a barely functioning mother. I’m selfish, stupid and inconsiderate. I get it. The constant reminders just make me feel like I’m living back with my parents again. So I decided to remove my wedding ring and tell him to settle on a neutral truce – for the sake of the kids and our sanity. Whether that ring goes back on my finger or not is completely unknown. But while the pressure is removed we can play happy housemates. 

Today I met up with my good friend L. We had a good chat over coffee and brunch and I mentioned a job that I’d seen advertised that I was interested in and I knew it was in her sector. Low and behold, L makes a call and we’re heading along to see the offices and meet some people. Thanks to L I have a better understanding of the role to make an informed decision and thanks to L, I was treated like a grown adult, with thoughts and opinions and a capacity to learn. The opportunity to be treated professionally and with common courtesy. A huge boost after a miserable week back. Reassurance that some people do have faith in me, and that I’m not a complete loser. I love that L places faith in me too. It feels good to get that from someone.

Then we walked the dogs, I miss the regular excercise in Cambodia, so it’s been good to experience achey legs again. Although my arm is playing up like a bitch.

Then coffee with my friend S that popped around to catch up. She’s been very supportive of me and reminded me of my worth and that I deserve to be happy. I find her strength very inspiring.

Finally I messaged another friend, R, and she called me immediately to chat. It was a good chat, warm, friendly and even she went on a random spiel about how I was one of the most gentle people she’s met. 

In all, my friends have provided a sympathetic ear, good advice and shown belief in me. It’s what I’ve needed. Having felt like a frumpy, useless, worthless unattractive mum.

I’m so grateful to have these people in my life.

Tomorrow I’m taking my daughter Jess to catch up with my friend and her daughter for dinner. She’s the friend that has survived breast cancer as well as all the other shit life has thrown at her. She’s incredibly inspiring and strong and we always manage to have a good laugh.

I’ve always tried to shut people out of my life, I keep them at arms length, but I realise at this point of my life, I can’t do it alone. And where my husband has lost belief/interest in me, my friends have stepped up to the plate. Maybe I can’t be such a rotten shit of a person if I have such good friends after all?

This week has been testing and inightful. Helped and made enjoyable by my friends.

I do feel more refreshed by being around other people. And I also feel that by telling my husband – in effect, giving him permission to lose that sense of obligation which I know he feels pressured over, has helped us move forward. Although I anticipate still being the butt of jokes and outlet for his stress.

But I’m just going to swallow it and carry on for the kids sake. 

I’ve been liaising with my lawyer and frankly it all sounds contradictory and too vague. So I’m not sure at all what’s happening there and I don’t understand what’s going on. It frustrates me and hurts me grately.

I’m looking forward to a relaxing weekend. In particular watching the All Blacks smash the Wallabies on Sunday!

Appointment today

I slept most of today. I’m just so tired, more than normal. Getting up was a struggle. Mind you it’s pissing with rain and freezing here so it’s pretty hard to get motivated anyway.

Got up to see my psychiatrist – as usual she was on the ball. Not really. I told her I was feeling ‘low’ she knows about my little stay in hospital. She asked what was going on, I explained I’d had a motorbike accident, smacked my head, shoulder is still buggered. But my usual GP that I liked in the city has left so I registered with the same gp as the kids – which is local. But I have to wait for my details to be loaded into the system – apparently data entry takes nearly a week here. Good old local gps. And making an appointment before I’ve been loaded is a no go. So I’m waiting to pursue that. I told my psychiatrist that. She asked if my husband was being supportive, I explained he was being nice, which was the best I could hope for, but really my marriage was shot so I couldn’t rely on him. I told her I don’t sleep well, and I told her I just found out my case has hit the skids in the UK.

She told me she didn’t expect me to be ‘normal’ considering all this. I was still jet lagged, my medication would take a while to settle because of the time difference and it wasn’t worth looking at adding medication while I was still settling into a ‘routine.’ She asked again if I had a gun or access to one. Good old Welly increasing on the gun crime front, it’s the focus point now for all us nutters.

She was shy of telling me to get on with it. 

And I got my usual prescription, which I dropped off en route home. 

So aside from getting more medication, the whole thing was pretty pointless. I’m seeing her in another month.

I guess if I’d flung myself on the floor, cried and screamed I was losing it – the outcome would have been different. But frankly, I was too tired and can’t be bothered to talk more about my feelings. I told her I was ‘low’ not sleeping and really not very happy. But I guess she considers me a moody cow. That as long as I don’t get a gun, I’m ok to put on the backburner. 

Believe me if I had a gun, I wouldn’t be waving it around and scaring the shit out of people, I’d have gone somewhere quiet and blown my head off. Although knowing my bizarre immortality I probably would have just ended up with half my face blown off and STILL alive. 

I’ve arranged to catch up with a couple of friends tomorrow, that know me and my history and state of my marriage. That’s good because it means I don’t have to fake smile and pretend I’m ecstatic to be back in NZ. It will be nice to try and have a conversation and not be shut away in my head with my miserable thoughts and self critical monologue.

Let’s hope I don’t scare my friends away.

So I’m home, I’m tired, slipped back into bed. Asked my husband if he could leave earlier – more for his benefit. The roads are flooding, there are closures and bridges are falling down. I prefer he collect the kids, I have a hard enough time talking to the staff and being happy for the kids sake. They keep asking me if I’m ok, in a way, it’s a blessing I had the bike accident because I can blame my quietness and shut down face on pain. Which isn’t a total lie, my shoulder has limited mobility and the back of my head still aches. It was fortunate I got to use the hospital to get a head scan. I’m surprised it was clear, as the pain is centred and I get dizzy spells but again, I’m like the terminator. Which is frankly a bit shit when I’m so fucking miserable I’d be happy to keel over and cark it.

Ah well, I’ll be back


Face, heart and ugliness

I’ve tried to keep myself busy the last few days, doing things that make me feel more normal. Admittedly I’ve also been very honest and vocal about things on Facebook and I’ve received so much support – it’s impossible not to feel inspired and respected by friends that genuinely seem to care. I feel less alone and I feel the sense of disappointment is shared rather than in my heart to ruminate over. 

Today I went and got waxed. I prefer waxing to shaving and there’s the added benefit of feeling more clean all over. Not that I have anyone to impress or show. It’s purely for my own indulgence.

I then caught up with the beauty therapist that’s become a firm friend to me. Due to cancellations I was able to get a facial, my lashes and brows done and a mani pedi. I feel more like myself. I feel cared for and pampered. I’d love for it to be like the old days, my husband is impressed, I feel confident, we make dinner plans, organise a babysitter. But he won’t see me in that way now. Perhaps he regards me more like a sister. I want to be seen as a woman, sexy, beautiful, I want my husband to see that I’ve got clear skin and feel more presentable – less like an old bag lady. I think he compliments me like he would any woman. It’s generic but there’s no real interest. I miss being gathered up in a hug, I miss kissing, I miss being sexy. I think he started seeing me as a sister figure a long time ago. Perhaps before even our troubles started. I thought he was being mindful about my fears because of my history, but really it’s because I don’t interest him in that way. I know he finds women attractive on programmes we watch. I’m sure he probably gets relief from porn – when I’m not around.

My attempts to be seen as anything other than his overweight wife with issues are futile. I will never be more to him.

All of my life, men have lusted over me. Made lewd comments, tried to get my affections, or even not waited for an invite. Now I’m a mother of 4, unsightly, unwanted and damaged. Despite my own shortcomings my husband always {once} seemed to see me as beautiful and desirable. But then that changed.

I really would like to be loved, held, cared for, made love to, seen as a woman – not just a mother – a tolerance.

I felt better today. I felt supported by friends, I felt pampered, felt more tolerant of my own face that I hate to see reflected. But then I hung on my husband’s reaction – please see I made an effort. Will I ever be beautiful to you?

I have my answer. I feel an inner sense of sadness, loss, disappointment.

To add to this, my husband looks great. His skin clearer than it has been for a long time, he’s lost a lot of weight – although he could always carry it because he’s broad and strong. He looks fantastic in his fitted suits, he looks confident, he looks younger.

No wonder I’m such an embarrassment to him. I’m a failure in every sense of the way.

Tomorrow is my appointment with my psychiatrist. I have no idea how to manage that. She’s the American that I barely know. She’s on rotation and she doesn’t seem happy here in NZ. I don’t feel the need to confide in her in depth. Perhaps just the symptoms, look to a medication tweak.

I’m just a clumsy old fool, struggling to get through the days. Trying not to damage my kids. 

Thank god for friends that love me unconditionally. I don’t anticipate ever being loved or held by anyone else for the rest of my life. This is the price I must pay. This is what I deserve. 

Pain and sleep (poem)

Every night I lie down with the same sense of dread

I pray that this be the last time I lie in my bed.

Fear and pain pulse like acid in my veins 

I’m lonely, I’m confused and I’m weighted down with shame.

How much longer can I fight this raging battle within 

Knowing no one can save me drowning, in images of him.

Depression grips me like a vice every second of the day

I can never get peace or justice, my attacker will never pay.

The shadows mock me with their presence in my periphery 

Noises outside threaten me, there will be no reprieve.

I’m damaged, I’m broken, I’m losing the will to fight

I’m so miserable, so boring with this long drawn out plight.

I wish I could be free at last of this never ending nightmare 

I wish I could find peace and justice – wouldn’t that be fair?

Just one night I’d like to close my eyes, and drift into a sleep

That won’t see me recover, that will in its warm embrace I’ll keep.

Email from lawyer

I have received notification from the CPS that they have intervened in the case with a view to discontinuing proceedings. The reason provide is that in the view of the CPS there “is insufficient evidence to provide a realistic prospect of conviction of Mr **** for any offence arising from what took place in 1996”. The CPS was able to view the documents we provided, the defence provided and also after the CPS undertook enquiries with the police. The CPS also viewed a visually recorded interview of you giving evidence (which I have not seen). I have discussed the position with *** **** QC and we are both very disappointed by the decision. You have 3 months to request a review of the position but my view is that it would be fruitless exercise. The only alternative is to seek a judicial review of the decision and if you require I can access the prospects of success in that action.


I am very disappointed the CPS did not allow the matter to progress to consider what the Defendants defence to the allegations would be but I fear that the police at the outcome have to some extent compromised the position by not gathering further evidence and reading too much into the date errors made in your medical records. The Defendant admitted sexual intercourse and I feel in these types of cases the allegations need to be put to the Defence at trial to enable a jury to consider if he is telling the truth or not. The Defendant in these actions all to easily are able to offer a pre-prepared statement at interview and then not be required to answer the questions put to him in interview. I consider this decision is premature.

 So, that’s it. All this pain and reliving trauma for nothing.

He wins – he has his life. I feel I have nothing.

I just want to drive my car over the side of a cliff. 

I’m exhausted and devastated. And yet, not surprised.

I hate my reflection

I knew I was changing when I was in Cambodia. My thoughts on things, my responses, my overall outlook. I took these changes as positive. I was able to look at myself objectively, removed from ordinary life, consider my flaws, my weaknesses. Consider it was time I changed for the better, stop being so self absorbed, so selfish.

Coming back to my family I feel confused about my role. I figure in time that will smooth out. 

I don’t intend on feeling sorry for myself or complaining on how bad I have it. Because I don’t.

But I am sad and I do feel like I don’t know myself. I don’t feel strong. I don’t feel able to relate. I feel like a looming figure and I’m not sure how to handle my emotions. 

I want to blend in, carry on, but I feel a heavy resistance. I worry about a lot of things, that I can’t say out loud. I want to keep hidden away, I don’t want my unhappiness and uncertainty registered by my family.

My confidence and self assurance has gone. I feel so unsure of myself, so tired of the days. 

I have started looking for work. The jobs are boring, but I need to contribute financially. I need to play my part in this family. But I worry, I honestly worry about my capacity to interact with other people. 

I don’t feel angry, I don’t feel anything other than a sadness and loneliness that is hard to articulate.

It’s not good for the children. They need a positive mother, a strong force, dependable. My husband needs to see my commitment, he needs to know I’m trying.

I hate my reflection. I look so twisted and ugly. I took pictures of myself curled up with my son this morning to put on Facebook. But I had to take 20-30 photos and delete all but three. I looked so repulsive. My son looked cute and beautiful in all of them of course.

I don’t know what to say to my children, or friends that contact me. I feel like I have nothing of importance to say.

Even this blog entry is miserable and pointless.

I became so self critical while I was away, and now I’m scared to reveal any part of me.

I still feel like a guest in the house. Displaced. 

I need for things to get better. I’m in this really hard place. I’d like to set myself goals but I find I’m often in a state of confusion. Hopefully that’s still jet lag, perhaps residual from the medication, I need it to pass quickly.

I’m starting to consider my worst fear might be true and that is, I’m not supposed to be around people. 

Perhaps I deserve to wander the earth alone. Instead of inflicting myself on other people.

Glimmer of hope

Yesterday evening as my husband and I finished watching tv for the evening he welcomed me into a spontaneous hug. It didn’t feel awkward, or like he was doing it in a robotic motion. It’s the first sign of tenderness and for me to believe he might not actually despise me completely. 

His arms felt warm and I felt held and protected. But I cant chase him for more. I need to wait for his terms. I feel so alone, I needed that physical comfort. I need to be touched and loved and wanted. 

I have many times of wanting to reach out, but I know I’ll be rejected or come off too needy.

I am trying to hold things together. I’ll see my psychiatrist next week, it’s important I don’t leave my mental health abandoned. I want to fight this. I can’t get lost in the fog.

I feel so tired, I always wake up panicked and confused about where I am. 

Sometimes I lie looking at the back of my husbands head. Wondering how we got to this. Well, it’s me. My fault. I pushed a good man away. Now I’m suffering the loss everyday. I’m an idiot. A lonely stupid idiot.

I don’t know how I’m going to get through these next few months. But my children need me. Even if my brain is half there, that’s better than nothing. 

I need to push through. I can only hope that things fall into place. One thing is for sure I can’t control anything in my life anymore. 

I just want to crawl into a hole and hide and sleep until I can be strong. Until I can live without nightmares, until my marriage is safe, until I can live fully.

But that’s typical me, it gets tough – so I hide.

I’m just so tired of fighting my way through ordinary days all the time.


I’m feeling like an imposter. Like I don’t really belong here. The kids are so happy to have me back. They got really upset when I was taken away in an ambulance. We told them after it was from my motorbike accident – I did manage to get a headscan there didn’t reveal anything. These headaches are a real nuisance. 

I shouldn’t have taken too many pills, I don’t know what I was thinking. It was incredibly selfish of me, and any chance I had reuniting with my husband has probably gone. As I’ve only proved I haven’t changed at all. Still selfish.

I feel like I’m in bubble, watching everything around me, but not really here. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to move or go anywhere.

In part the time difference and taken my medication at a different time doesn’t help. I’ve always been sensitive to the venlafaxin. I felt it going over there, but of course I had things to occupy my mind with.

Here is bland. I don’t really have a role to play – mother, yes. Wife, my husband isn’t interested. If I try and broach it, I get shut down.

I feel very alone. In Cambodia I was alone and I knew it would be tough coming back here with my family falling apart, but now I’m with people and alone.

November I hear the result of the pre case management meeting. I’m trying not to think about it. I’ve nightmares every night, but I can’t rely on my husband so I need to soothe myself. I am actually losing it. But my husband will hate me more. So I can’t lose it in front of him.

My husband used to be my best friend, but I know he’s not telling me everything and I can’t really talk about my feelings. So we’re adults living together. We are my parents – and I hate it. I don’t know what to do anymore.

I can’t leave my children again, especially coming to Xmas. I guess I just need to survive each day. I feel a part of me dying every day.


I felt the dark corners of depression creeping in.  I could manage it. When I got to Cambodia because of the time difference my medication was a bit screwed up. So I suffered side effects, and had to wait until my body adapted. Of course, being in Cambodia I was active, I was seeing and experiencing new things.

Coming back to NZ, I’ve taken the hardest hit. Of course I love my kids, and I’m happy to be home. But I guess with this fragile marriage, it’s been cold since I got back, and I just haven’t felt like I belong. This has been amplified by the medication trying to get back in order.

I can’t tell you what led to this, but all I know is that yesterday I took the prazison tablets, which I use for nightmares – and I’ve had a few. They also lower blood pressure. I took a packet of them. Swigged down by beer for good measure. I don’t know whether ultimately I wanted to die. I thought I had a pretty shot though.

Life feels painful. And I have this horrible sense of not belonging. Furthermore, I let my kids down really badly.

An ambulance ended up being called and I had seizures in the ambulance and on the way to hospital. I was taken to ICU with an oxygen mask because I couldn’t even breathe for myself and these seizures kept happening. I wasn’t aware I was having them, I only noticed I’d wet the bed. Which happened at every seizure. I spent most of the night in and out of consciousness. My night nurse was really nice.

In the morning of course it was the good old psyche team appointment. Everyone was keen for me to stay another night, but I wanted to get back with my family. And as Friday is a day off for the kids, I need to look after them.

My husband is furious. He’s told me how selfish I am, how he can’t trust me, etc. so our relationship has taken another blow.

To the kids we just explained it was my motorbike accident and I needed more tests.

I don’t know how to cope. I’m so lost at sea. My children need me and I must be there for them. But I know I’m alone .

I keep letting everyone down. I feel very alone.

I’m facing a few days of misery and a battle uphill.

But my husband is right, I can’t be selfish.


My kids were so excited to see me. It was even better than I imagined. The warmth and love. I couldn’t get enough of them.

I hadn’t slept on the plane, so I did grab a nap in the late afternoon. Later I sat with the kids to show them some pictures. They got very overwhelmed, over tired. I felt I needed a bit of space too. It’s weird going from being alone all the time to being surrounded. 

I really missed the buzzing of the city. Everything felt slow, regulated, predictable. My ache from Cambodia lay present in my heart.

At night I was freezing. Shivering. I asked my husband who barely uttered two worlds to me all evening if I could move closer to him. He agreed, but much in the same way a guy with no interest in a woman might. Obligated, but no excuse to really say no.

I felt so uncomfortable I asked for a duvet cover.

I slept so deeply – dreamt of Cambodia. 

In the morning my husband asked me to take the kids. Jet lag had total grip of me, I didn’t even know where I was and I hadn’t driven a car for so long I mounted the roundabout outside our house. My left arm unwilling to straighten for the wheel. What a mess. I shouldn’t have been driving. But this is my routine – this is what I came home for. 

We were late to the school. The girls asks me to miss school. I agreed. I liked the idea of having them around me. 

I dropped my boy off. He needs to be able to run and play – the girls are more self efficient.

I started with laundry – of course all of my stuff is unpacked, washed, away,  I’ve started on the mess around the kids rooms.   Trying to restore order. I’m surprised having known my mother in law was here that everything wasn’t already super neat to bring home my shortcomings.

I feel a bit bored. Tired, fed up. As though my time away was  meaningless. No one really cares.

My husband is especially disinterested in me. I feel like a guest. Like I need to ask politely if I need something to eat or drink.

He’s told me that we are basically flat mates. The precedent has been set. I mean nothing to him.

It’s the strangest concept to grasp. I live and in fact I’m still technically married to someone with no love or interest in me.

I need to feel a few weeks pass. I need to be in my routine again. I need to learn to look at my husband as my friend. My houseMate

life feels a bit sucky at the moment.