Maybe day 4 or 5, no showering, same clothes. I’ve given up on life. I’ve certainly given up on myself. No one would believe I used to get my hair done regularly, get my nails done, care about my presentation. I’ve got long dark roots, perpetually greasy, lank hair, crooked nails, and I don’t even know where my make up is.
I look old, ragged, tired, and I’ve lost my sense of worth. I don’t care how I look and I don’t care how others see me. I have nothing and I am nothing.
S only cares about getting me to sign the house over. So his parents can hold it and then hand it back. He’s sorted for life. And I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone, he’s on his phone all the time, sneaking out to take calls. It’s like him and I never existed. He doesn’t show any signs of compassion or even regard me as familiar. I’m just an over stayer. I never imagined how much that would hurt. I never thought he could be so cold and callous. I don’t know him at all anymore. And I guess that’s part of the reason I don’t know myself anymore. I used to be life and soul of the party, now I’m pretty much in bed all the time. Forget friends, I haven’t made an effort at all.
I’d say I’m dead inside but I still have deep feelings of hurt and sadness.
I don’t know if I’ll get through this. I hope every day that a truck will hit me, or I’ll have a brain aneurysm, just something that will stop this constant misery. I don’t want to hurt my children and I know they’d be devastated, so that’s why I’m not actually doing anything myself. It would be easier if it were out of my control. Every day. I hope something will happen. My funeral would be empty, it’d be process. Because I’m a nothing. A no one. I’ve not made any differences, I’ve not left any marks.
Well, maybe the plane will go down! Not that I wish death on anyone else.
I’m really anxious about my upcoming trip. I’ll miss my children so much. To be so far from them is a scary thought. There’s no ‘jumping on a flight’ in an emergency. It takes 30 odd hours of travel. I’ve never been very far from them before.
I wouldn’t be surprised if S left me there. He can do whatever he likes while I’m out of the picture. And I don’t know him anymore. It’s like he’d slay me with a sword with a smile on his face. I know he’s always thinking and planning, but in his mind, I’m the enemy. Sometimes he’s nice to me, and it’s almost scary. I wonder where the ‘metaphorical’ punch will come. I’m not sure he’s capable of being nice to me out of any sense of residual care for me, the anger, disgust, and disdain boils over too much sometimes for me to know where his true feelings lie.
Anyway, there’s no point keep going on about my sunken marriage I suppose. Perhaps this is normal, when couples separate, feelings change 180 degrees. It just becomes a game to some.
Hopefully England will give me the respite i need. My parents aren’t particularly sympathetic people and usually blame me for my troubles, I only hope I can push that aside and just be grateful I’m out of NZ for a bit.