Whatnext I have been reading all of your pain. Your posts have brought back a lot of memories of my terrible pain too.
But I hope that my story can give you hope. You will overcome this pain. The pain will go. The pain brings you strength and joy that you have yet to discover.
My husband disappeared five years ago when my son was 6 months old. He emptied our accounts of our savings, withdrew our ten thousand pound overdraft, walked down the garden path and drove my car to Heathrow.
He dumped the car at the airport and caught a plane to Bangkok.
I have never seen him since.
Some people on here remember my thread from that dark dark the time.
Like you are now, I was in unbearable pain. It felt as though I had blood poisoning my body was so wracked. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't eat. I didn't sleep for a month.
At the end of that month I told friends I felt suicidal. The police arrived at my house, my baby was removed from me for two nights by social services and put into emergency foster care and I was put in a police cell until a lovely doctor came to see me and ordered police to release me immediately.
It was hell, sitting in that cell, holding a piece of toilet paper and feeling nothing but agony and fear.
In the weeks that followed I desperately wanted to know how long the pain was going to last. I asked over and over on MN for people to give me a timeline for recovery as I absolutely thought I would never ever get through it.
But I did and I have.
I was 44 at the time, 49 now. My son is nearly six. He is a joy and we laugh constantly. He was diagnosed with leukaemia last year but I am fucking strong and so is he and we are doing brilliantly.
This shit you are going through? You just have to cry/swear/drink/smoke/shake and wail through the first bit: I turned a corner after four months. I started to get angry and less afraid of the bastard. The bodily pain eased as the adrenalin slowed down.
I had a house full of his shirts, coats, pants, socks, our love letters and all our married belongings. I slowly 'culled' things: his books went to charity shops or the tip, his cuff-links I kept for my son, his clothes I burned. I flogged his bike on ebay. I felt guilty at first as I still loved him. I could not understand how he could possibly abandon a small longed-for baby boy.
I have learned so much and changed as a person as a result of the whole experience. I have learned that I am a wonderful, kind, generous woman, a fantastic single parent, an amazing cook, a great gardener, am good at DIY and run a biggish house with aplomb. I have taken in lodgers and worked as a cleaner and freelance writer.
I am no longer that 44 year old woman in agony, with a broken heart and a crushed life.
I have love, light and friends. I have self-respect. I am not afraid to be identifiable on the internet. I did nothing wrong.
My son is much much braver than I have ever been, coping with rounds and rounds of chemotherapy, needles and endless bags of blood and platelets.
You are going to come through this pain. This pain you have is going to go. Your husband will shrink in your estimation and you will find joy and laughter again. I promise.
The wisest thing somebody told me, is that Love needs nurturing, like a plant - it needs to be fed and watered and without those things, it dies naturally. This love you feel for your piss-poor husband, will fade and die.
His loss. He's an Arsewipe.