So I left my husband today. Everyone is shocked because I've kept my depth of unhappiness to myself for so long. But his disrespect for me pushed me over the edge.
On Saturday morning, after a drunken episode which saw him short the power in the house (throwing up all over an extention cord) and some other things, I asked him to leave and give me space. Because I was so angry and hurt. He left, the weekend occured and I started seeing a little light. I caught up with housework. Even with my 9 month old daughter to care for, I still got more stuff done alone. Monday comes, he gives me the shittest cam call ever, his attitude, demeanour, everything. I get he's depressed too but it's his fault he got drunk and reduced me to a shaking shivering shell on my neighbours doorstep begging for help, I didn't ask to be put in danger and abandoned to drink. The call ends and I take a steep nosedive down into the depths of utter despair. If it wasn't for my baby girl I'd have killed myself, for sure.
He cams me later and he's happier and acknowledges the call and that he was an arse. This destroys me. He admits knowing what he was doing to me. Yes he says sorry but he doesn't mean for what he did to me, he's saying sorry because he wants to me be grateful for his sorry. I spiral once again and tell him to come home, I'm going to kill myself and our daughter needs to be taken somewhere safe so she won't be left stranded alone in a locked house. He comes but stays the night, he uses my mental breakdown to coerse me into consensual sex. I say yes but I'm internally screaming no and I just fake it like normal because saying yes is what every one wants. The next day its like nothings happened. And he does more in the house, but he still asks his dealer for drugs. Its when he comes home after a shopping trip. "I've bought 4 beers I hope you don't mind". I mind. And I deflate. I'm totally crushed.
As I lay in bed this morning, turning all this over in my 'held together with half a shoelace' mind and decide, no, he didn't actually miss me or his daughter did he, like he said he did, while putting on some crocodile tears. Nope, he missed the house, the bed, the ability to do whatever the fuck he wants and face no consequences. I can't take this anymore so I leave. I packed everything I could into what I could and I leave. I tell him what I really think of him before I do.
Now I'm at my parents house. And he's been and dropped her cot off, along with few others things, oh and almost everything I own too. My sister, who drove us here from a train station, said he did that to prove a point. All its done is make me feel more guilty, which I guess was also hos reasoning My parents only have two bedrooms. They barely have room for the grandchildren visiting let alone us staying. And my mother even said 9 years ago when I got with him he doesn't treat me right. She was wrong then but she is right now. I feel like such a bloody failure.
But my daughter can't survive without her mother, not as she should anyway. She's the only thing keeping me alive right now.
How the hell do I get through this?
I don't know in my current state if this post follows the rules or anything but I joined this site for a place to come to tell others like me how deeply I am lost in the fog of suicidal desire. My daughter is sitting here on the floor between my legs happily playing and I'm looking at her looking at her grandad and I think, I have to stay alive for her. She needs me.
But this is so bloody hard.
My parents will care for her and raise her well if I did CTB. I want to so much. Her happiness and my death are top on my desires list. I just desperately need to remember which of those two is most important.
On Saturday morning, after a drunken episode which saw him short the power in the house (throwing up all over an extention cord) and some other things, I asked him to leave and give me space. Because I was so angry and hurt. He left, the weekend occured and I started seeing a little light. I caught up with housework. Even with my 9 month old daughter to care for, I still got more stuff done alone. Monday comes, he gives me the shittest cam call ever, his attitude, demeanour, everything. I get he's depressed too but it's his fault he got drunk and reduced me to a shaking shivering shell on my neighbours doorstep begging for help, I didn't ask to be put in danger and abandoned to drink. The call ends and I take a steep nosedive down into the depths of utter despair. If it wasn't for my baby girl I'd have killed myself, for sure.
He cams me later and he's happier and acknowledges the call and that he was an arse. This destroys me. He admits knowing what he was doing to me. Yes he says sorry but he doesn't mean for what he did to me, he's saying sorry because he wants to me be grateful for his sorry. I spiral once again and tell him to come home, I'm going to kill myself and our daughter needs to be taken somewhere safe so she won't be left stranded alone in a locked house. He comes but stays the night, he uses my mental breakdown to coerse me into consensual sex. I say yes but I'm internally screaming no and I just fake it like normal because saying yes is what every one wants. The next day its like nothings happened. And he does more in the house, but he still asks his dealer for drugs. Its when he comes home after a shopping trip. "I've bought 4 beers I hope you don't mind". I mind. And I deflate. I'm totally crushed.
As I lay in bed this morning, turning all this over in my 'held together with half a shoelace' mind and decide, no, he didn't actually miss me or his daughter did he, like he said he did, while putting on some crocodile tears. Nope, he missed the house, the bed, the ability to do whatever the fuck he wants and face no consequences. I can't take this anymore so I leave. I packed everything I could into what I could and I leave. I tell him what I really think of him before I do.
Now I'm at my parents house. And he's been and dropped her cot off, along with few others things, oh and almost everything I own too. My sister, who drove us here from a train station, said he did that to prove a point. All its done is make me feel more guilty, which I guess was also hos reasoning My parents only have two bedrooms. They barely have room for the grandchildren visiting let alone us staying. And my mother even said 9 years ago when I got with him he doesn't treat me right. She was wrong then but she is right now. I feel like such a bloody failure.
But my daughter can't survive without her mother, not as she should anyway. She's the only thing keeping me alive right now.
How the hell do I get through this?
I don't know in my current state if this post follows the rules or anything but I joined this site for a place to come to tell others like me how deeply I am lost in the fog of suicidal desire. My daughter is sitting here on the floor between my legs happily playing and I'm looking at her looking at her grandad and I think, I have to stay alive for her. She needs me.
But this is so bloody hard.
My parents will care for her and raise her well if I did CTB. I want to so much. Her happiness and my death are top on my desires list. I just desperately need to remember which of those two is most important.
