7 years on

It’s been 7 years today.

Wow. How time flies.

He’s married again and they have a baby girl (thanks insta-stalking).

It still hurts.

Although now I have a whole load of different emotions going on.

Shame. Rage. Guilt. Sadness. Pain. Happiness. Loneliness. Emptiness. Confusion.

Some days life just hurts so much and I don’t want to be here anymore.

I don’t know what I’m doing half the time. Just bumbling along trying to keep going. I’m addicted to houseplants at the moment, think it helps dull the pain sometimes. But then other days I’m like what the fuck am I doing with all of this, it’s just more shit to take care of and it just feels too hard.

I think I’m getting depressed again.

Life sucks sometimes.

I feel so fucking lonely all the time. I don’t really have any close friends and it’s really twisting me up inside. I need a close girl friend that I can just go see whenever I want and spill stuff to. But instead all the “friends” i have are either online or they don’t really hang out or I feel awkward around because I don’t know them that well, or I don’t get invited to stuff etc. I see everyone else going out with friends etc and I’m so jealous of them. I think I would feel better if I had someone like this. I can’t really talk to hubby about all this as he’s got enough problems of his own (he’s seeing a counsellor) and he just doesn’t get it. Any time I try to talk to him I end up angry and frustrated and worse.

I just feel like no one really likes me or even cares. I post on one of my online groups but hardly anyone ever responds to the posts. i feel like all I ever do on there is complain so they are probably sick of me and think oh well she never takes our advice anyway so why bother with her.

I’m getting angry over all sorts of stuff, getting really frustrated with work and I just don’t want to be here. I don’t want to take meds again though. I didn’t like how I felt on them. I don’t know what to do. I can’t stop the memories from coming. The other night in bed I was lying there and all these thoughts just popped into my head and I was paralysed with pain and sadness.

I feel like I’m failing at everything, all the time. I want to be the perfect mum and wife and I try so hard but it never seems good enough. I’m always disappointing someone, or myself. I never want to get out of bed and I’m late to work every single day. I don’t want to do anything with anyone at home, just wish they would leave me the fuck alone, but then I feel so guilty that I’m not doing stuff with them like I should.

Guilt is a fucking killer isn’t it?!

 

I can’t get shit out of my head. I can’t leave it alone. I can’t forget.  I pick at it and pick at it until it bleeds again.

 

For the first time in a long time I feel like hurting myself.

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