Law and order

I haven’t written down my feelings over the last week or so. Frankly because it’s so unstructured  and so unpredictable, it would change every hour.

Firstly, I sought legal advice over the separation. I came away feeling more empowered. The lawyer said a couple of times, quite bluntly, your husband has already seperated from you. I needed to hear that. He feels he’s ‘shut down’ and at the moment not prepared to talk/work at/face everything. But in essence he has left me, although not physically. I thought a separation required the actual relocation of a person – but it doesn’t. 

There are so many things I miss. Putting a hand on his back in the night, the affection, the hugs, the stolen kisses, the private jokes and of course the intimacy. Ironically I’ve not been fussed about affection before, but now I crave the feeling of being held, being kissed, being loved. Frankly, I can’t remember him and I actually having that spontaneously. Of course in retrospect I should have seen the signs and done something – worked harder. But I can’t go back in time, and I can’t force him to hold me or even love me like he used to.

I feel like I’ve lost a best friend, lover and husband. He’s not my first call anymore, or my person to share anecdotes with. I have wrestled with feelings of loss, grief, regret, denial. I have sobbed at night, during the day, driving the car. But gradually I realise that my final stage is acceptance.

We argue a lot now. Over petty things, it’s amazing how we can both be so adamant it’s the others fault. There is an unwillingness to compromise, to relent. It’s very combative. But I guess I’ve felt so unsure around him, so keen to say and do the right thing, but his constant reluctance to sort things out, to deal with it, to formulate a way forward has ground me down. I’m actually pissed off! And this, I can work with! I’m not going to play submissive and desperate anymore. Frankly, the whole thing annoys me.

I’m still working tirelessly to find work, even friends are helping. But it’s already against me that I have children, that I haven’t worked for so long, that I’m not a born kiwi. It’s very demoralising receiving rejection after rejection. He doesn’t want me, companies don’t want me.

Luckily friends keep me going. Their support and encouragement.

The kids, well, they know we argue. More than usual. And they’ve always seen us being close and affectionate with each other. They know things are changing. All I can do is keep reminding them that we love them and will always be there for them. I feel I can trust him where the kids are concerned. To be united and not use them as pawns. I really don’t want them too affected by this. Although I know it’s inevitable to an extent. I would gladly do family counselling.

I’m not ashamed or uncomfortable about leaving a marriage where there is no love or mutual respect. It’s not the 1950s anymore! People do end marriages.

So I’m hoping for a peaceful, amicable Xmas. That the kids get to enjoy being kids with two parents that are united. 

My shoulder is still painful. The X-rays showed no fractures or torn ligaments. So they’ve diagnosed frozen shoulder. I’ve been referred to an osteopath, and have painkillers. Hopefully the osteopath can help with my migraines as well. The injury where I had stitches has become a cyst. But the dr knows my shoulder is too painful to do anything about that right now. 

Still down a washing machine! So on my regular trips to the laundromat, which keeps me occupied, aside from the usual house chores. Managed to source a second hand dryer in the interim.

Next Sunday is the last group meeting of the year. Apparently everyone is supposed to take some Xmas food. It’ll be nice to see everybody again. 

He’s away next week, Thursday – Saturday, so I’ll likely have some friends around. Relax and enjoy the evenings without tension.

Today I was very busy and then caught up with friends. It was a lovely hot afternoon. And to be able to unwind in good company was a welcome treat. 

Next week, osteopath and psychiatrist! Keeping body and mind in check 😊

Considering the circumstances, I’m feeling quite strong. I guess we never know how much we can take until we’re really pushed.

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Major trigger to process alone

It’s been a tough week. I know, every week is tough at the moment, same old, same old. I do bore myself! But I have to believe in keeping this record it will become a benchmark of times I’ve long past.

Despite all the other obstacles I’ve faced and dealt with alone, today I had a trigger. A real, quantifiable trigger in the form of information I found out by accident relating to my history. I’ve made the decision not to share the details on here. But it was interesting, surprising, shocking, confusing. My now ex husband was there at the time of the discovery.

Now I would have ordinarily broken down, talked every possible scenario out. Cuddled into him. Felt his protection, his sympathy, his compassion and tenderness.

He was taking my daughter and her friend to the cinema, so clearly then was not the time to talk. But I know in the days of old, he would have checked in on me via phone or text. Known I was hurting. 

While he was out, I mentally checked through all the possible people I could call and talk to. I have great friends, but finding the words, initiating that conversation – be it in text or call was too intimidating. 

The only person I know is my husband. The person I trust. The person that would get it. That would go through the logical stuff with me. 

I did text him while he was out to say I felt sick. Afraid, anxious and had been considering all possibilities. I told him I understood it wasn’t his problem anymore and appreciated id crossed a boundary by opening up to him. He said in a text it was ok to talk about.

I decided to give the evening a chance. Perhaps I would sit with him, open up. Share my pain.

We had a spa and it was immediately obvious that it’s not appropriate to discuss this with him. We are both focussed now on our separation. There’s no room for my stuff.

We chatted about inane things. Like friends. Certainly not as a married couple.

After, we watched some television. A tangible distraction from talking.

The sadness and grief and all the conflicting emotions I feel are mine to bare.

He’s giving out a clear signal – either conciously or subconsciously that this stuff is done for him. It’s not his problem.

I guess I wanted to know that a part of him still cares. That a part of him is there for me.

I need to accept he’s not there anymore.

I won’t talk to anyone about what I’m experiencing. I’m just not comfortable discussing this new information.

To have someone there physically but not emotionally is a terrible burden. An ongoing reminder, a confusing situation.

I’ve left for bed. I’ll no doubt cry myself to sleep as is my new pattern.

But these tears are for being back to a place of dealing with pain and trauma alone again. With no one caring. No one listening. 

I need this weekend to hurry up. I need for the house to be empty – it better reflects its emotional state and doesn’t leave me confused. Doesn’t tease me with a family that isn’t real.

I need to get my independence. I need to get out. I’m falling apart in here, and no one knows it except me.

Triggers and past tense

I had to wait for money I’d asked for from my ex husband to clear in my account so I could fill up my sluggish car with petrol. 

I’d had just enough to drop the kids off, but probably pissed everyone off with my nana driving back home.

Waiting around the house, I saw Dr PHIL was on TV and the episode was about Cosby and the accusers. The pain and trauma that these women feel was palable through the tv. I cried in parts. Some of the women in their late sixties still suffering the trauma from assaults in their early years. I wondered what my (now) house mate/ex husband would think about that. If they should be over it. If their respective partners or husbands were fed up of the ongoing support and understanding they needed. In seeing these women, I felt once again validated. I have done so much to overcome my own fears and trauma and yet, to my once confidante – it’s not enough. He’s reached his limit. I don’t begrudge him for that. I was the one that first heard ‘compassion fatigue’ and told him I understood his position. That said, I don’t believe there can be an expiration date on grief. Particularly as my court case is still sitting somewhere in limbo with a lawyer that’s clearly more interested in high profile cases. 

I felt a little raw, but I had an appointment at the family planning clinic in the city for the depo injection. It stops my periods and as periods can trigger me, I find it really helpful. I don’t like going to the clinic because it reminds of the assault – yes, even years later. But I want to keep my intimate health seperate from my GP.

In the clinic were vivid posters explaining consent and some pictures. I tried to look away, but knowing these images were plastered all over the wall – didn’t help my cause.

I was seen by a dr (female) brief summary taken and then I received the shot.

As usual, I get very bad cramping afterwards. I usually prefer to rest and shutdown after the appointments because I don’t like the feeling orexperience. The pay off is that it doesn’t last more than a day and saves me the monthly agony of periods.

However, as I headed out, my friend called. She sounded very emotional, she felt she was ‘losing it’ after a week of triggers. I offered to go straight to her place.

She was tired, sad, confused, emotional. We sat and talked over coffee. I listened and offered support and advice. She’s a good friend.

Often she’d ask if she sounded crazy talking about triggers, expressing her fear and issues. It all sounded totally reasonable to me. Fortunately she has the support of a loving partner. 

I drove home and within 20 minutes the kids got home with their father.

I’m still cramping and have put my feelings from today aside. There is no place for them here.

I have come to my room to lie down though. My stomach feels terribly bloated and I’m restless with anxiety.

The relationship with my ex hasn’t involved me communicating my nightmares or anxieties about my past for some time. So it’s not new territory to be suffering in silence. In retrospect he stopped caring and being open to that side of me a long time ago.

It’s yet another example of our division. His resistance to see and hear me, my progress and the things that hinder me.

I’m going to manage this alone. I am alone and this is my future. I am not scared by this. But I am determined to keep moving. There is peace for me at the end. I just have to get there.

Emptiness

  
This evening my (ex) husband was out for a work party thing. I text him to say I regretted my ‘failures’ in the marriage [even though I was prepared to work at it 100%] and I wanted things to be amicable for the kids. That I wouldn’t fuck him over in a divorce and I wanted to reach compromises for our seperation – also reassuring him that I was looking for work and had opened the parameters for the whole of the North Island.

I enjoyed some television and frankly less tension in the house (feeling like an over staying houseguest) with a bottle of wine and some recorded back programmes of mine.

When he arrived home, he nonchantly thanked me for the messages.

To me he might have well said, ‘thanks for forgoing the fact your heart is ripped out and your security is uncertain but you’ve finally accepted I don’t love you and don’t want you around – but I feel much better.’

Then he reassured me I didn’t have to clear off to ‘my’ room just because he was home.

Sure honey, let’s watch some menial television together while you’re feeling great and I’m feeling like a deflated, disregarded, unattractive blow up doll.

What surreal parellel universe have I entered?

I lock the house up, and head to bed knowingly alone while he watches tv, free of his obligatory housemate and in the buzz from a work party.

While I lie here contemplating my future and worrying about the impact on my children.

When did he turn into a heartless bastard? When did my past become a ‘card’ that he can no longer tolerate? When did my ability to seek an amicable resolution to the insolvency of our marriage make him so relaxed and content?

How long ago did he in fact realise he didn’t love me?

I lie in this bed alone (again). Efforts dejected, exhausted, miserable. I’ve spent the day applying for work and putting odd items of mine on trademe (NZ equivalent of eBay). I don’t own much of value but I need money. And as gold is so cheap – ironically my wedding ring isn’t worth very much here.

I worry about my children. I already ache painfully for my son and I’ve not even left yet. How can I be without him 7 days a week??? It’s unbearable thinking about.

My (ex) husband takes to the couch so easily. I’m sure he’d rather sleep on a bed of nails than next to me. I repulse him clearly.

I text him to remind me I need cash to refuel my car tomorrow. I need to drive the kids to school and head into the city for an injection that will stop my periods because periods trigger me – WOW! There goes the victim card again.

If only I could be as content as him.

He has everything – including rich supportive parents. I have nothing. He has already happily moved on, made further content by my resolution not to cause any trouble. Just to leave.

I have never felt so lonely. All my life I am blamed for everything. My parents – if I was in contact and they knew they would chalk this marriage breakdown up.

He was my best friend, my confidante, my saviour, my rock. And all the while was tallying up my every failure, every nightmare and panic attack. Waiting for me to ‘get over it.’

I had no idea I was such a burden. Such a noose around his neck.

Now I’m unwanted in the house, asking for money as needed. Looking at my children – knowing I’m going to lose them. Taking in every second of my son’s scent, warmth, feel. The individually of my girls and their quirks.

I would do anything to bring my husband back. His warmth, his security and unconditional love  – but he’s gone. 

I face this world alone, and I will NEVER trust again.

An end to an end.

After spending a night alone in bed following further indifference with my husband and truck load of nightmares that left me exhausted this morning, we spoke over the phone. Our washing machine and dryer have packed up – so the girls clothes lay soaking. Somehow it became an argument of exchanging blame. It got more personal, more angry and I realised the person I married has changed. He’s angry, cold, resentful and seems to be enduring living with me which has left me wondering if perhaps he was advised to keep living together based on legal advice. Why would you live with someone that you can barely look at? Treat with contempt and can’t stand to be around? Apparently I am the villain, I’m the reason for everything and in a final stone cold knife to the heart, I’m using the victim card. I hadn’t realised that dealing with my past had an expiration date. 

So I suggested a divorce. A finality. A confirmation of our stance, and an opportunity for me to finally know where I stand and move on.

He agreed about going our seperate ways but was reluctant to agree to selling the house and informed me I wouldn’t get anything from him. He also informed me he’d need to speak to his tax lawyer and father – the latter being an ‘accountant.’ Tricky with money to avoid tax, a serial cheater, contacts to ‘direct’ money etc. I told him it didn’t matter because a lawyer would explain it all to me.

I was devastated that after 17 odd years it’s come to this. Distrust, dislike, disregard and disrespect. He’s made me feel like a complete nothing. Although he’d say he’s not responsible for my self worth or confidence, he has been my best friend and confidante, the person I spend most time with. It’s inevitable that when you spend so much time with someone that views you so negatively, your self confidence and worth is affected. He left a job because he didn’t like the environment and his overall feelings were affected.

Unfortunately when I turned around I saw three distraught girls at my door. I hugged them all tightly and told them we would always love them and always be there for them. I didn’t tell them that my husband has told me he doesn’t love me, doesn’t know how he wants to progress in our marriage and wants me to wait around, being treated like a random flat mate until he decides what he wants. The kids would feel insecure and lonely – much as I have. Because no one asks someone of that in a marriage. I thought it best they didn’t go to school in such a state, and could help me go to the laundromat and I’d get them lunch.

They seemed to enjoy the special day and the break from routine and reassurances from me made them content. Although deep down I wanted to stay in bed. I wanted to sob and wail and wonder where it all went wrong. But I wanted my children happy again.

I saw lots of couples out, holding hands. As my husband and I used to. It pulled at my heart strings. The memories, the times together. Doing mundane things but being together. Affectionate, caring, a solid team.

When my husband arrived home I tried again to talk to him. To find out how he really felt, to repeat my own solutions to the situation, but the attacks were ongoing. The contempt, the utter lack of care, not listening and blaming. Not contributing anything of positivity. Just disregard, belittling and the complete desire not to offer kindness, hope, a way forward, compromise.

I realised in his tone, in his eyes, in his words, anything he felt for me is long gone. How he views me is unchangeable. I am a monster, the root cause of his problems, his losses, his failings, his misery. There is nothing I can do, offer, say etc that will change his view of me. I am so below him, so pathetic, so heavy his load, that he’s never going to treat me with anything other than contempt and disrespect.

I’m not going to fight him. I don’t care about the house, I don’t care about anything other than my children and keeping my self respect.

I’m grateful to be able to stay in this house, although I’ve long said its not my home. It’s no longer my sanctuary.

I need to find work, with a steady income I can start again. From scratch. Rely on myself and not have the feeling of being a nobody or worse a burden to someone else. Hopefully too, he will find happiness and the love he wants to share with someone better suited.

I have a heavy heart. I believed our marriage was forever. I wanted to put in the hard yards. I love our family and wanted the kids to grow up with parents that would get through anything. I believed he was my confidante, my safe person, my love until death do us part.

But something in him towards me has died and its rotting. He’s miserable and angry and in turn, I’m miserable and lonely.

I have held onto glimpses of the old him, memories of our long life together, the other things We have overcome. I won’t feel guilty for not having an expiration date on my past pain. And I know I was prepared in my deepest heart to give everything to making this work.

But I can’t fight his anger and his contempt. I can’t change his heart or position. And I won’t stay in a marriage where I’m not respected, not loved, not given affection. 

I have to endure my days here, I have to assume his position – shut down my heart. Grieve silently and alone for this marriage. 

But I’m not afraid of starting over alone. I resented my mother for not doing that. In time she became so worn down, so bitter, so self loathing and hateful to everyone around her. She lost herself, she hung onto to the only thing she knew. The familiarity. The emotional unavailability of my father. The put downs, the looks of contempt and it took away her self worth.

I won’t do that. I’m prepared to walk away with nothing.

The thing is, even though my husband says I play the victim card, I AM a victim. I don’t apologise for the symptoms of PTSD that I suffer, my battle for closure. My pain and the long lasting effects of trauma.

But I won’t be a victim of staying in a failed marriage where I’m not wanted. This is something I have control over.

You don’t want me around – I’m gone. 

It hurts, everything physically and mentally hurts. The exhaustion, the trying, the pushing for a conversation, it’s too much. I would love at this point to be held, to be loved, to be reassured. But if my own husband isn’t able to stand me, there is nothing here for me.

In my weakness I feel my strength. In my failure, I realise my need. In his treatment, I realise what I deserve better.

In my heartbreak, I see finality. And to accept the end is to be open to new opportunities.

Still I rise.

Thirst

I’m tired. Not just physically but to my core. If my soul were a physiological symptom – it would be thirst. But how I can replenish something so intangible?
People of faith, belief, spiritual convictions and lifestyles have their prayer/meditation/ reference guides/places of worship/ higher beings/higher powers/experts/ and leaders. Delete as applicable.

I have visited many different places of worship of faiths. Even the evangilical churches with their large portions of mass hysteria with a side order of mass hysteria. I have met people of different faiths and beliefs and seen some pretty bizarre methods of prayer. Each one has left me more insightful but never resonated within me. Even some of the most beautiful architecture in Rome hasn’t left me spiritually moved.

Yet I do remain open minded to some degree. Like for example I have moments where I sense the presence of my beloved Nan, who’s death broke my heart. Although my rational mind can explain these instances away with psychological theory and feel more like touched by madness than touched by an Angel. But I like to believe she makes her presence known to me on occasion.

My body and mind are tired. My mind is soothed somewhat by my anti depressants that ward off the overwhelming darkness. Good sleep can recharge my body. But my soul is sad. Inside I’m seeking respite. 

I don’t know how that would look. I don’t know what form it would take.

I love my children and I take these precious moments that fill me with love and joy. Snapshots of unconditional love and expressions of their little characters developing. Yet I am often tired from the constant giving of energy and ‘doing.’ I’m tired from feeling all the time in this turbulent marriage. The hope, disappointment, fear, anxiety, love, hate, faith, denial, loneliness, awkwardness, self loathing, guilt, need.

My friends are awesome. I get so much love and encouragement from them – but I’m wary of pulling too hard. Of becoming a burden.

So I wonder, how can I replinsh my soul? What is my tall glass of ice cold water?

First I will sleep, then I must get back to my regular excercise regime. I must improve my eating habits. If I take care of my body – will my soul be soothed? How can I learn to accept and love myself? I presume this to be the key to my happiness. One thing is certain, acceptance and regard cannot be provided by the person I once held to be dearest to my heart – my husband. In his resentment towards me, I have realised that I can’t rely on anyone. 

I need to work within MYSELF for ME.

Shouldering on!

This morning after I dropped off the kids, tidied the house, walked the dog, I went to my scans. I was apprehensive as I suspected they’d be painful.

The X-ray was uncomfortable, the woman took a million shots in varying poses, I think these pictures will be the most flattering I’ve ever had taken! Unfortunately every time she moved me, she’d push my bad shoulder down, I’d wince and she’d apologise, saying she ‘forgot.’ It went on quite a few times. Despite that being THE reason for my being there. 

I went to my ultrasound next, disappointing it’s not a baby scan! Far less exciting. As the woman probed my shoulder she started asking why I wasn’t doing physio and why wasn’t I taking anti immflamatories. All I could say was that I had only just got back and was following the instructions of my GP that wanted the scans first. She went on to ask why I hadn’t had it done in Cambodia. For goddssake! Must I justify everything! 

I won’t get results until the GP has reviewed everything. 

Later I had my appointment with WINZ (work and income NZ). The guy reviewed my cv and said it was ‘awesome’ he also felt I’d find work easily although it’s not the best time of year. I told him I’d had loads of rejections, so I’m clearly not that great. We also discussed my entitlements – which are zilch because I still live with my husband, but if I move out, they will help. I told him I didn’t want to receive benefits – I wanted a job! I want my Independance. He told me he wasn’t used to hearing that in his position! If my husband and I seperate, to go onto benefit would be soul destroying. I want and need to be working. Just going into WINZ felt demoralising. 

It’s not been the best week and I feel I’m ending on a bum note. I guess I’d hoped I’d leave the office with interviews up my sleeve. Apparently now I’m loaded onto the system, I’m automatically put through for suitable positions as they arrive. I can only hope that between that system and my banging out applications – something sticks.

Meanwhile my friends have been an ever constant source of support. I don’t need to moan to them or tell them every detail, just being cared about and having these strong relationships keeps me in check with my confidence and self worth.

Life plods on in autopilot on the homefront. I see no reason for animosity. Although it’s a highly emotive and a pressured situation. But when we relax, it’s nice. I prefer my husband being friendly and warm. I know that sounds obvious, but the detached coldness is something I can never get used to. I just never thought he’d treat me like that. 

I’m going to watch some movies and enjoy some wine tonight. I rarely drink and my reason for drinking tonight is to enjoy it and relax. Not to get completely paralytic and forget everything!

I’m sore, I’m tired and I’m keen for a quiet weekend.