This is how I feel when I’m not okay with everything.
I feel flat. I feel sad. I feel like I’m losing something. I feel like the world has fallen out from under my feet. I feel like the sky is falling in above me. I feel like I’m being left behind. I feel lost. I feel distraught. I feel like throwing things (last night). I feel like cutting up my husband’s clothes. I feel like shouting and screaming. I feel like crying. I feel terrified.
I worry about what we are going to tell the children, about how they will react, about how they will be affected. I worry about how lonely I’ll be when I have my own place. I worry about how the kids will miss me when they are not with me. I worry that they WON’T miss me and that is MUCH MUCH worse.
I remember. The white dress in my wardrobe that I changed into on our wedding night. The jewellery in my jewellery box, most of which he bought me, the shoes in my wardrobe (the nice ones) – nearly all of which he either bought me or was with when I bought them. The handbags he bought me. The Christmas tree decorations on the tree – many of which we bought together. The songs that play when I put my music on random – Counting Crows Sullivan Street (I had to stop it playing). The photos – I don’t even dare to go there. The memories in my head: the birth of Joshua – so traumatic and painful – how he made me a huge fry up when I got home because I’d lost so much blood and needed iron. The birth of Lala – how I freaked out on Day 5 with the baby blues and there is a photo of us all, me with tear stained eyes.
I could go on and on and on. But what is the point? It’s over. I’m not even sorry in many ways. I don’t want to be with him. But I miss him terribly. I miss him loving me. And that is incredibly selfish if I don’t even love him back. But this was forced on me and that makes it all the more difficult to cope with.