I hate myself. I took my son and left three weeks ago after being strangled from behind to the point I blacked out. I drained the joint account and all my savings and stayed at a hotel for a few nights until I found a place I could afford to rent, I moved a few towns over and I’m trying to rebuild. I’ve lost my life I lost my career I’ve lost everything.
Every night my son asks where his bus bed and where all his toys are and I try make it fun but what’s fun about being 4 and losing all your home comforts and toys and possessions, (thankfully I had funds left over in my savings to re buy his school uniform even then he has one of everything) what’s fun about sleeping on a battered blow up mattress, what’s fun about living off microwave meals when you hate pasta but your stupid mum didn’t think logically and just left.
I miss cooking in a oven, I miss being able to choose clothes to wear in the morning and not having to baby wipes stains and marks off the same two jumpers and leggings I have on rotation because that’s all I have. I miss having a coat because I’m soaked every morning on the school run.I miss my clients from my career. I miss the coffee shop round the corner from my old house.
I hate that everyday my sons asks for things that I just can’t give him.
I hate myself for missing adult conversations in the evening (despite sitting anxiously not knowing what’s coming if the conversation took a turn) I miss having someone to talk to about my son or my day.
I wish I didn’t spent over 10 years of my life with a man who did nothing for the last 3 years but run up debt in my name and beat me black and blue
I hate him with all my heart but I wish I could have my life back, I wish this weren’t so fucking hard.