Crazy MedsĀ 

Well, I’ve seen my psychiatrist and discussed my concerns around insomnia. She understands the importance of nailing this before it affects my mood. The olanzapine has a bad effect on my liver, as well as side effects that I don’t like but there’s no doubting its capacity to work. I’m leaving that as a last option. In the interim I’m trialling an increase in antihestimine – not ideal but she feels it might work at this dose. And I have zopiclone again. I asked her if people go through periods of high tolerance and if an extended break might help. She agreed and recommended it over tamazapam which has a shorter half life. Also I have no history with zopiclone leaving me groggy. So I’m trying that again to induce some better nights sleep.

I also caught up with my boss and I’ve been asked to take on a temporary upgrade, with increase in pay and full time hours. As the current person has resigned. I’m definitely up for the challenge as I’d like to be busy and learn a lot more. But I also have a lot of self doubt. Can I really do this?? I’ve not had a position of responsibility for so long and I’m worried about my capabilities.

I’m still at the house so that I can look after Harry and now Caitlin as she’s hurt her neck. I’m essentially living back here and it’s really weird. I’m loving spending time with the kids and being amongst the chaos and feeling of family. But it’s certainly a thank less task when you’re alone. I have so much respect and regard for single parents. I know I’d feel a lot different if, at the end of the day, I could curl up with a partner that loved me and enjoy a cuddle and a glass of wine. To feel appreciated and to be cared about. Would make the days seem easier. 

Still, we know I’m out of here next week when the dreaded in laws come down. I’m surplus to requirements.

I had to miss therapy this week with my son being ill. It’s a shame because I look forward to my sessions, but my son takes precedence and I’m not going to put him in kindy for a few hours when he’s sick.

I have my appointment booked at the hospital for 9 August for my upper GI with the gastroentologist. I’m putting it to the back of my mind for now, but as it comes closer by ill be increasingly anxious. I don’t like any invasive procedures and my last upper GI was pretty traumatic a few years ago, with medical staff pinning me down. To say I’m terrified of the discomfort, claustrophobia, powerlessness, invasion, humiliation, is an understatement. I’m more concerned about the process than anything they might find.

It’s again, the PTSD. My psychiatrist asked how those symptoms were and I explained they’re there but I manage them. What other option do I have?!

I had asked S to drive me and stay with me for the procedure but now I’m having second thoughts. I need to know I’ll be safe and we don’t have that kind of relationship anymore. Like when I have nightmares here, I no longer feel able to tell him or seek comfort. In fact I’m hard pushed to think of any situation where I’d ask him for support. Aside from financial. I just feel that he doesn’t care and it’s not his job to be concerned or attentive to my needs. I’ve come to realise I still have a tendency to expect too much. And all it does is hurt me in the long run.

It’s only Thursday and I’m shattered! God knows how I’ll go when I’m back to working full time and the second trimester starts next week too! Still, at least keeping busy should keep my mind occupied and stop, what I’m beginning to identify as a slight drop in mood. Might just be lack of good sleep, and it’s certainly the stressful situation I’m in. But I’ve noticed I’ve become increasingly withdrawn, full of self doubt and I can’t stand to see my reflection. I feel fat, ugly, stupid, worthless. I’m trying my best not to wallow in it. But my mind is beginning its loop of self loathing monologue.

Of course being mid winter doesn’t help. It’s cold, dark and gloomy and raining all the time. Pretty hard to stay motivated!

Been a dragging month. Will be interesting how a busy July goes!


Crazy time

I think this quote that I happened across by sheer fluke sum’s up where I’m at right now.

My son has been unwell and so has S. I’ve been stationed at the house to look after my boy and also keep him quiet when S has business calls. Although I’m sure he’d derive great pleasure in telling me he didn’t actually need my help if I said anything.

The last few days have ticked along almost giving a sense of normalcy. Until when we argued this evening and I’m starkly reminded not to forget my place here or rather, there lackof.

I’m not sleeping well at all. In part because of my neck and shoulder injury (my souvenir from my time in Cambodia) and no doubt the stress and anxiety of this situation.

Continued lack of sleep is usually a precursor into a change of mental health, so I’m very careful to notice that and do something. God, wouldn’t S and his parents just love this timely spiral into madness! The olanzapine has awful side effects most notably destroying my liver as what happened with the seroquel and the zopiclone doesn’t work as well. But frankly even that would be better than nothing. I long for a goods night sleep and to wake refreshed.

I’ve noticed that when I’m in my house I take regular walks and go to the gym, but here at, I should say at S’s house, I tend not to do these things as frequently. I think I become self conscience and carry a sense of unworthiness and motivation. I’m not sure of the root of that. Because I’m reminded I’m not cared for, therefore why should I care? Whereas alone I am only thinking about what’s good for me. Strange.

I’ve also noticed how S takes my traits and applies negative connotations to those. Like my need for control. But it’s a by product of my PTSD, a survival mechanism that’s triggered when I feel a sense of powerlessness. You’d think by now he’d understand that and show compassion as opposed to holding it against me. I’m working so hard to confront my demons, to change negative behaviours, to communicate more openly. And yet, when I’m here, I literally don’t feel I’ve made any progress. S has me boxed and labelled. Thoughts process and responses already predicated before I have a chance to explain how I really feel. In summary, I’m facing a battle before I even open my mouth. I sure as hell cant get anything right.

I understand why my friends are so keen for me to move on. From an objective point of view I can see myself constantly going back into the ring. And to what end?

Tomorrow I’m seeing my psychiatrist to get some sleeping medication. It’s taken too many bad experiences to bring home how looking after my mental health is so important.

My boss has also arranged for me to come into a meeting first thing. I’m especially anxious about that outcome. I’ve not had much work, the work I’ve done has been a waste of time! I know I shouldn’t stress over things I’ve no control over or predict the worse case scenario. But I think the tiredness and overall current emotional situation is leaving me more vulnerable.

At least I’ve been able to be there for my boy and have good chats with my other kids. 

I hope to have work and my sleeping issues resolved tomorrow – one way or another.

At least not everything is as complicated!


My ex has invited his parents to stay at the house the night before and morning of C’s birthday. No asking, just a text confirmation for me. Of course, any response I make is seen as an over reaction or need for control, so I can’t possibly communicate the depth of hurt I feel. His parents that I don’t get along with in my home, with my kids on my daughters birthday.

Any connection I had to this house is gone. I don’t feel welcome, I feel like an over staying guest. As such I worry about the bond with my children.

I’m staggered by the betrayal of S and his total lack of regard. 

My initial reaction was to stay at the house, out of principle I wouldn’t be pushed out. But I realise I’ll have three against me, and again any comment I make will make me seem the villain. I have no choice but to stay away and let S and his family enjoy my house and my children.

Just when I thought I was feeling stronger and more in control of my life and feelings – this happens.

I didn’t think I could ever feel more hurt – but S has surprised me. 

I’m not going to go on feeling sorry for myself and give S and his family the benefit of my sorrow. I just hope I’ve created enough of a platform so that my kids know I love them. I’m going to see my daughter the day after for dinner and a movie.

Any respect or regard I had for S has gone. In place there is coldness, such a deep disconnect and resentment. 

I have struggled to come to terms with the separation. I have felt lonely, I have clung to the possibility of a reunion of sorts. I have offered myself in couples therapy for S to offload his resentments, and to find a way forward.

But now I am in no doubt. This man is a stranger to me. The house is just a financial interest. I will never find warmth, compassion, respect within these walls with this person.

My journey is one I take alone, fortunately with good friends and hopefully with my children.

There is no more grief left. There is nothing to grieve for. What I once knew died a long time ago, in fact perhaps I imagined the whole thing. I can’t remember a time when I was happy with this man.

Seeing red

I’d barely left my house on the way to couples therapy when I saw S in the other lane, heading the same way. I beeped and flashed at him, not getting his attention, finally to jump out at traffic lights and angrily ask him why we were going in two cars. He angrily shooed me away, indicating he was on a call. That’s hands free in case anyone gets anal about it.

Wind back. I’m working really hard to stick to a budget. Working down to my last cent. It’s not something I’ve had to do before and it’s a steep learning curve. I’m up to the challenge though and it’s amazing how much care and consideration I take into grocery shopping and any spending. Looking for the deals, thinking of the week ahead, and it’s nearly month end and I’m not living on a final dollar. Which has happened before! 

With work, it really pisses me off when I make wasted trips, that is, turn up and the person doesn’t appear. It’s a huge drain on petrol and my reimbursement isn’t enough. So yesterday I’d driven to another town begrudgingly and again I was stood up by a client. My bosses replied that of course it wasn’t wasted, at least the client knew I was true to my word! Like she gives a shit! And as my car takes at least $160 to fill up, it’s wasted on my part. I’d love to downgrade but S has the contract for it through the company so I’m stuck with this big gas guzzler.

Anyway, I was already irked at time wasted, so to see S on the highway headed the same way I immediately saw red. Not just literally – his car is red. Two cars going the same way, both paying parking fees. Why oh why didn’t he offer me a lift?? My anger from this morning mixed with my frustration at S and the fact he didn’t bother to offer me the courtesy of a lift clouded any judgement I might have had. So when we drove away from the lights I took a detour to avoid him, I didn’t want to see his stupid car. And I certainly didn’t want to follow it.

When I arrived and parked the stupid ticket machine didn’t work – everything is out to piss me off!

S waited in the wings, apologising for not being able to talk because he was on an important call. But he could no doubt sense the seething anger rippling off of me. Didn’t stop him pushing though.

So I entered the building, nothing like a flogging to end the shitty day. Another round of, isn’t S the nicest guy and I’m just this wench that’s destroyed him with my issues.

I realise my building anger was not just frustration from the day, but also a defense to the hour that I knew would result in him picking at me. And I know, I know This is something I wanted, it’s something I put my head on a platter for, played martyr for. Let S process all of his resentment towards me so that we could move forward to heathly terrain but, my god, it’s really hard to sit and listen to this, especially when his view of events is skewered and yesterday he flat out denied telling me he didn’t love me when I was in Cambodia. That was a new one on me as previously he’s admitted to it. Is this a game now? Is it malicious? If he won’t be honest, and he wasn’t particularly forthcoming about his fathers ongoing affairs or his over bearing bizarre mother (which he referred to as ‘protective’) give me a fucking break. What’s the point in this?

He’s not affecting me personally, just to be clear. I’m still very much in the place of my last blog post. Maybe even more so, in therapy I see his character defects even more and I’m less interested in pursuing a connection with any depth or meaning. Light and cordial is working for me. I don’t miss him like I used to. Just the kids, terribly. But he’ll be getting a mattress this weekend so the kids can stay over.

I’ve been busy rearranging furniture and making this place more homely and I really love how it’s coming together. I enjoy my evenings blobbing in front of the tv, or the other night I went for a walk and there were a few joggers out. It was a nice atmosphere, safe.

I just need to spend more time with my children. I miss Harry especially. His warm cuddles and his cheeky smile. My heart breaks when I think of him just up the road. So close and yet so far.

So yesterday was really just a bad day. I didn’t go to the gym either, I snacked on bagel crisps and I read in front of the fire.

How did things get to this? Why is life so complicated? More to the point, why are people so difficult?! 

I don’t know S at all. Maybe I don’t even want to know him anymore. The caring guy is long gone, and I don’t trust him or his actions anymore. After the therapy he asked the obligatory question, are you ok? But it was so insincere I could have spontaneously combusted on the spot. What, are you still trying to play nice guy?  I meekly responsed I was fine, thank you.

Then I got to my car and dug around under the seats for an old cigarette that had fallen under there a long time ago! Despite giving up, I picked off the bits of fluff and crap and I smoked that baby like a meth whore!

In sync

I find my heart and mind are finally becoming in sync. I have pined terribly for the loss of my best friend and husband, but not the ‘now’ the old days. I’m finally looking at him and realising how broken we are and how there’s really no going back.

It sounds obvious, and although I knew that in my logical mind, I still grieved for the loss I felt I had. I guess I even hoped we might find our way back together, stronger and more united than ever because of our experiences. But I accept that not only is that never going to happen, I don’t know him at all anymore and I feel too confined by the parameters he has set me. He has a very low opinion of me and I can’t be in a relationship like that.

I have found some peace to my realisation. I knew that things were working themselves out in my head but I didn’t appreciate what I was working towards. It struck me a few days ago. Nothing triggered it, there was no profound moment. I merely looked at him and knew my future was not with him – in that way. I realise I haven’t sought his advice or input on anything of importance and it stopped being a conscience decision a while ago.

Last night I tripped and fell over his weights that he’d left out. He turned the lights out – something he knows I hate but he just wasn’t thinking, we don’t exist for each other anymore. We don’t think about each other any more. As I fell I hit my knee but managed to get my arms out, although rather twisted. I felt sore and concerned about my new workout routine. He stifled a laugh. But there was no concern, nor apology about the weights. No hand offered to help me up. Things that I’ve come not to expect, but last night, it didn’t even hurt or make me feel bad. In fact, he could have or not have been there. I was quite indifferent.

This is a huge shift for me. My heart has been slow to catch up with the situation, and understandably so after so much history together.

He is someone that remains a big part of my life because of the children. He is someone I can watch tv with, and have a basic level of association with.

But he’s not my person anymore. Nor do I desire him to be. And I finally don’t feel sadness about that. I don’t feel angry, I don’t feel depressed. I feel like I’m being real with myself and I feel like it’s time for me to get to know me again. Enjoy myself, pursue interests and set goals. I no longer need approval, acknowledgement or even permission. 

This new territory feels empowering. But also gives me hope that we can have a good friendship without the emotional baggage.

Everything is a process and I continue to trust in my ability to work things out eventually. The process is painful and no doubt there’ll be times as I work through other things that I fear I’ll never make it through. But that’s why my blog exists, to remind me of every step I take. No matter how big or small.


Today I had my own therapy. My slice of time where I can analyse the week, lament about my life and get validation for my feelings or be challenged on my emotions. I find my therapist so honest and refreshing with her perspective. I always learn something new, or recognise patterns where perhaps I had been too blinkered before.

I did talk about the couples session and the lingering resentment and anger S had after the session. How I felt he was after some sort of conflict after the session and as I wasn’t prepared to bite, he seemed to take his frustration out on our daughter. Nothing major but clearly a momentary lapse of judgement in a situation that called for more calm and insight. I have learnt over the years to practice self care after therapy, something S needs to learn with support and tools from the therapist.

I talked about my tendency toward isolation, yet I’m able to recognise that I’m going against my desire to do nothing and head out for walks or go to the gym. 

I still feel very much in a period of transition and self reflection. Less able to connect with people at the moment. And that’s ok. I need this space right now. I want to be more aware of my feelings and process whatever comes up.

I’m very much identifying as a single person now. My concerns, my fears, my trials aren’t shared anymore and it’s no longer instinctive to reach out. It’s still a painful realisation but at least my heart is finally coming into an acceptance stage.

I’m really beginning to explore my core beliefs about myself and challenge my negative preconceptions about myself. I’m realising that this was a journey I was meant to take. Probably well before I settled down and had a family. But unfortunately it’s not happened that way.

And I certainly wouldn’t change my kids for the world! But luckily they’re young enough that they can reap the benefits of my strengths and contribute to the person/mother I want to be. I learn from them everyday.

Bumps along the way

S hates me. He’s so full of resentment towards me, I’m surprised he’s able to see straight sometimes, actually I’m more surprised I’m not buried under the deck!

I’m really glad I’m paying an exorbitant amount to hear the deeply imbedded resentment! That feeling was ‘marginally’ aggravated when S and I left the ‘couples therapy’ session today and he remarked it felt like a waste of time if I was going to sit there and listen to him slating me. Funny that, it was all shits and giggles for me!

The reality is, in order to move forward, a peace, a treaty, a mutual agreement needs to be met. And in order to do that, past resentments need to be aired and acknowledged. Sure, we can cordially ask each other to ‘pass the tomotoe sauce’ but anything else ends up into ‘let’s-dredge-up-absolutely-every-historic-resentment’ and I don’t want that. Not for us, not for my children. Our history together deserves more than that. And I’m strong enough that I want to listen to his pain and acknowledge what he’s experienced. Out of respect for him and consideration of our marriage. Although it seems S doesn’t think I’m capable. In fact, whenever he says what he thinks I’m thinking, i realise how little he actually knows me or respects the work I’ve been doing on myself for myself.

In fact this therapy is incredibly useful for me. It makes me really see and feel how disconnected we are, how different we are and how much has changed. These are reminders that I need, as the temptation to slide into thinking about the ‘good old days’ is painfully overwhelming at times.

I’ve recently completed a brief mechanics basis course, which I enjoyed thoroughly. Considering I couldn’t even change a tyre before. It’s empowering to feel more independent and sure of myself where my car is concerned. Especially as I spend so much time in it!

Im in deep gratitude to my friends for offering their unwavering support despite my attempts at isolation. Perhaps there is a life after separation.

Next month I start a resilience course in the evenings and also learning sign language, which is something I’ve always wanted to do. Surprisingly, although my confidence is at an all time low, I’m doing things. I’m out walking the dog, I’m back going to the gym, I’m having my own therapy sessions. I’m motivated to continue my journey, it’s been mentally and spiritually hard but enlightening and now I realise my body needs to join in too. Hence the need to look after my fitness. Or rather, get back into a regime, as I’ve really let myself go.

I’m still suffering terrible bouts of loneliness and by that I don’t mean a void filled by any bugger – which S seems to think, if that was the case, I’d have filled the hole by now. But I miss the history I have with him, the closeness and the safety. As well as my family. Our family. I miss the whole thing and sometimes it hurts so much I can barely breathe. But then I remember how different things are and how much S thinks I’m a superficial, miserable cow and I try to hang onto that! It does make it harder to love someone that can’t stand you!

I have a lot of work to do on myself, but I’m enjoying learning and figuring things out. Although confronting my past and old feelings is especially painful. The effects of PTSD seem to come and go. At times I feel rested, comfortable and then suddenly for seemingly no reason at all I feel extremely unsafe, I feel panicky, I can have nightmares. It all becomes a huge tidal wave. But I choose not to share those moments with anyone, including S. Instead I try to honour my needs. Whether it be a rest, a gentle walk, reading or giving into a period of solitude.  

I’m working through everything but the reality is, I still have depression, I still have PTSD. So my mind can alter or perceive a threat that may be irrational. Perhaps I’m also learning how much I relied on S for these moments. As now I have no one and I need to work through it myself. 

I never imagined at this stage of my life id be back to renting. That id be single, that my wedding ring would be packed away and id spend evenings sat alone watching mindless tv. I honestly thought id met my soul mate with S and we’d be bickering over something mundane well into our old age. 

But without this huge change in my life, I wouldn’t have seen how strong I am, I wouldn’t have been prepared to work so hard on myself, I wouldn’t have been as open minded, I wouldn’t have learnt to make real connections with my friends. I wouldn’t have strived to become a better person. I would have continued to take S for granted, I would have continued to be stuck in my own memories/trauma without trying to climb out. I would stayed in a relationship that had seen the end but I wouldn’t have been prepared to face it.

Now I’m dealing. I’m learning, and I’m taking what’s thrown at me. My anger at the world has dissipated because it’s a waste of energy. My sense of self is growing. My relationship with my kids is growing stronger because I’ve learnt the value of time spent with them and I see my own worth to them – which is a HUGE thing for me to finally realise.

I guess my eyes feel open. And it’s bloody challenging at times. But with growth there’s a peace, an inner peace that I definitely didn’t have before. I’m still very much at the beginning of my journey but at least I’m committed to it.