A Fate Worse Than Death…

This is so powerful.
There is no more I feel I want to add.

Caught in the Cogs

Our culture protects rapists…but not for long thanks to women like Savannah, Chloe, and Helen. Women who refuse to stay silent about this culturally taboo subject. Women who refuse to stay silent about what happened to them because it makes others uncomfortable. Women who refuse to stay silent even when the law and society says they need to shut-the-fuck up.

Because, let me tell you one thing, provable or not in a court of law, rape is rape is rape. Too many people think rape must be violent rape by a stranger in a dark alley or in the bushes.

Too many people think of “date rape” as somehow not as traumatic as stranger rape. It is. Perhaps moreso because you have the betrayal of a loved one on top of the assault.

Too many people think rape has to be violent to be rape. It doesn’t. It can…

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Twisted Logic

When you know you are going to be accused of being the baddy yet have to close down because the other party can’t be trusted or relied on to deliver, promote their child’s best interests or even just physically be there for them. History does repeat itself in so many ways.

Well, I have had no real time to blog because I’ve been busy looking after my 2 children. Having a 12 year old and a 3 year old is constant. It never stops. I love them dearly but gees, there is always something needing done, or assisted with, or mopped up or changed, or fixed, or squabbles sorted, demands met, meals cooked, shopping done, school stuff looked after, nursery drop offs, entertainment arranged, cleaning, chores, more shopping, going to work, trying to meet friends and do activities… I put them first all the time. My eldest gives me a long lie at the weekend by taking his sister down for breakfast. Going to work is the only break I get. I am the resentful one now….  I hate that their father has put me in this position of being constantly exhausted. It’s getting better but in some aspects it’s getting worse.

As well as doing the usual parenting, working, I am also trying to fit in counselling, new hobbies for my own sanity, and I’m testing the water with dating (which is farcical). I now have so many issues of trust i look at every guy like I’m sizing them up for mental and emotional battle. I can’t relax. I have to test them. I’m suspicious. I wonder what they are after, apart from sex… Why would anyone want me? (and I write this sarcastically!) I was abhorrent, obviously a shit wife, unattractive, a control freak, he resented me, never wanted another child, didn’t want to move house but he tells me all this after the event. Trying to justify his callous behaviour, betrayal and lies. Yes, I was just so awful, which is why you stayed with me and used my money and lived under my roof. For being a selfish pig he didn’t come out with much from all this apart from a skanky girlfriend who believes his lies and wants to be with a man who doesn’t even know how to love his own flesh and blood or put them first in life, or want to do better for them. He is stunted emotionally and is not life smart. He never foresaw the consequences of juggling 3 lives and being left with the weakest, youngest and most naive woman who can overlook being cheated on and lied to.

So, my son has been chatting to his father online, on the phone I bought him, on the data plan I pay for. Father promised his son a phone and contract before he fled but as usual that didn’t materialise. So, now I see I am being triangulated with my own son. “if your mother allows you to see me”, like I have been the baddy in this!

I want to make clear that I was in ignorance. I was happy. I thought we were committed and together as a loving family. I thought we were both on the same page. I only thought that because he led me to believe that. He agreed with what I wanted but all the while secretly sneering at me and really wanting the opposite.

Please believe nothing he says. He is not logical. Him and his mother say one thing to look good then bad mouth people behind their backs. I’ve seen it all first hand. It’s insane.

I can’t decide whether to cut my sons online use. Do I deny him access to messaging his dad? It feels like a few messages and a present is just lip service. That in no way reimburses the pain, heartaches, confusion… I have never seen my son cry so heartbreakingly because I wouldn’t be able to go to the post office to collect a parcel from his deadbeat father…. I had to relent, the pain was too great to watch. I told him if it was a jumper he wouldn’t be crying so much. He was fully primed to expect it. Told what was in the parcel and when it would be coming. He hid it from me yet kept asking when the postman was coming each day…. He only told me when it meant he might not receive the parcel. His dad encouraging him to go to the post office on his own and ask the woman. My son was sensible enough to ask me if this would be OK because he knows I’d be worried if he was wandering to the post office after school and I didn’t know.

This situation is all too big to compute sometimes. I try to keep things stable for the kids but they don’t have the life they deserve – 2 supportive parents who have their best interests at heart. I am responsible for everything and I mean everything. So nothing has changed since he left. It’s ironic actually. I am better off in so many ways. Apart from having lost £18k that I’m slowly clawing back. This can never be rectified. It’d be same difference if he was dead except I wouldn’t be getting any child support each month. The emotional upheaval would be exactly the same as if he had died.

I feel like I will never shut up about this. As much as I said initially that this will not define me it has certainly reshaped me and for that I am glad. I like who I am. I am proud of myself. I can hold my head high. And even though some may pity me and think ‘poor woman, how could she not know her husband was having two affairs and went abroad behind her back’, the reason I didn’t know, but my gut suspected something wasn’t right, was because he was a self confessed accomplished liar who was expert at manipulation and covert lies even if they were of no value or significance. The fact he could get one over on someone and feel more important and think them the fool says everything. He had no respect for anyone, including himself because he is damaged. He has never communicated truthfully and will tell one person one thing and someone another. He weaved a tangled and messy web that actually ate him all up. He doesn’t love himself so he can’t even love his own children. Freud would have a field day!

Bon nuit

Laying It to Rest

I leave the light on hoping you’ll come home,
But you never will,
You can’t,
I’m all alone.

My heart was broken,
My soul’s in shreds,
You done this to me and you’re not quite dead.

I gave too much,
I had faith in love,
Yet your mask was welded tightly shut.

Greed and pain,
You never bared your whole face again.

I loved a shell,
A husk,
A fraud,
I gave you shape to lean upon.

I know my strengths,
I know my style,
I’ve learnt so much that it will be worthwhile.

My anger drowns me,
My sadness sinks,
I muster each day a new badge of life,
I’m glad you raped me to my core,
I’m grateful to find myself once more,

My pity will go over your head,
As your ego cannot be laid to rest.

The Only Rules I Need

I am posting a link to a site that I have just read. It validated me, my thoughts and my healing process. I am NOT abnormal – the situation my ex created is. I was NOT to blame – all his actions came from him and his selfish desires. He disrespected me and my children whilst I gave him too much respect and trust. Once a cheater always a cheater.

Here is the link to my current salvation!


Cool Hand Luke

“What we have here is–failure to communicate.”

I sent him a letter back in November 2016 when it all kicked off. I didn’t think I was thinking clearly then but I obviously was as I could definitely write the same letter today. My opinion hasn’t changed.

The only thing that has changed after me wrtiting this waw finding out about his second affair with slutface. At this point I was only concerned about bitch. I Hadn’t uncovered the true complexities of his tangled web.

I had to dig it out and reread it 7 months after the whole explosion. I still do not get real answers. I am painted as the bad one, the maniuplative one, the crazy, “poisonous” ex. I know more than he thinks I do and I always have. The more I know the less I understand as none of it makes sense to me.

The main thing I will never forgive is the ease with which he carried it all out. No sweat. The slickness. The unrelenting lies, the level of deciet. I know I am going over old ground yet there are loads of incidents I haven’t written about yet. Way too many…

How do I forgive? Do  forgive? I am less raw, that is a good thing. I feel like myself again. The one sad thing he does not seem to realise is that he is still in the fire. Everyday it gets stoked. He is scared to be by himself it seems. He does not know who he is. He has not lived alone, he has not discovered himself and never will whilst he is living in the dire situation he is. I think he thought he could follow a repeat of what he put us through before. Slink off then return once I’d calmed down. I will never calm down from this ( I know I will – I have already but that is only thanks to other people). Not him. He has never truely held my hand, had my bakc, had the kids back, he has never been my rock. I have been his anchor, his sail, his wind.

We were at two opposites ends of the same relationship. Meeting in the middle only happened rarely. Here are my past words that echo on:

I am a mess but I will be okay. I will manage our children OK. I will be strong for them. Your actions have made me feel every emotion possible. I feel stupid, used, ignorant. I believed in us. I believed in our family unit. This is not who I am, these feelings will pass. I can’t believe you didn’t hold fast, explain before now, deal with your issues in other ways, talk to me, not her. If you were confiding in her then I feel I must have been the problem, our children the problem. You knew you were wrong all along. You knew I hinted at the problem – seeing her.  But I was decent and couldn’t stamp my feet and demand you don’t see your friend /ex colleague /tenant Bitch.
Yet another name that will haunt me. You corrupted our future. The plans was to have a tenant to make our lives easier, their rent pay our mortgage, use our old flat to provide a future forX. What future is ahead for him now? You fucked our tenant hence you fucked up our family’s future…
It’s not as you said it was is it? Or did you still tell her I had moved out 2 months after having Y? I bought your explanation that we had drifted apart, I had moved out for a bit and you didn’t know when I was coming back but you must have had sex with her before we went to Aberfeldy. True?
Then delayed for a few weeks before it happened again in August? I looked back on old texts you sent me. Late in work, impromptu stag do’s, pint with R, walking home. Yes most of the time you were telling me truths of where you were but the odd times were mixed in there too. Camouflaged.
Your actions disgust me. I am appalled. This letter is in no particular order so forgive me if I jump about all over the place.
I remember dropping your mum off at her flat one time and me and her were talking about your relationship with Bitch. How you’d ran to her aid a few times (around the time of the M thing). She asked me if I thought there was anything going on. I said no. She said that you needed to watch yourself and put your family first.
I can recall numerous conversations between you and me where I let it be known I didn’t trust you, you were always late home, working too many days, going to pub and I didn’t get to go out – just stuck at home going mad until you decide to come in. I gave you the benefit of the doubt but something niggled at me concerning your actions and behaviour. I thought you were fed up of me complaining about breastfeeding, going mad with the hum noise and I stupidly gave you that space and didn’t demand too much of you.
Hell, I’ve never demanded too much of you. Perhaps when we were doing up the house you felt you couldn’t live up to my expectations of what a guy is supposed to be able to do, DIY wise. But I loved you for trying and knew you were out your comfort zone but was proud you were trying, were sticking at it for your family. I thought it may give you pride to achieve this for your family. Not resent it.
You have never expressed any desire to shoulder any of the financial burden of running a home, paying bills, organising insurance, sorting out council tax, utilities, insurances. I bet you don’t even know who our gas or electric supplier is.  If I died you’d be in shit, it would collapse around you and the kids. You never ask if we are OK with payments or what needs looking at. I am sick of holding it all together whilst you get the life of freedom and absolved responsibility because I take care of all that side if things. What side of things do you take care of? Your own pleasure? Your money is your own to do with what you please save of buying shopping and things for kids. Yes you contribute in other ways – cooking, domestic chores, child rearing for that I do appreciate you and think you are a fantastic dad.
You know how traumatic carrying Y was, making it through the pregnancy. Me being so ill was horrendous on everyone in family. I needed and received your support then. You assisted me through that. After she was born it was hell too. Yes, there were moments of loveliness but I always felt I was faking it. Like it was just a game and I should be playing the role of a mother but I didn’t know the script or the lines, it all felt awkward, clunky and confusing. I was in too deep. I regretted my decision to alter our lives so dramatically…. I was going to baby massage, I broke down in front of health visitor, I wasn’t me, this life didn’t fit me yet I had planned for it. No going back. My expectations did not match reality hence depression/ anxiety kicked in.
But you andBitch had already started by then. Y arriving is not the true catalyst in this is it? Your selfishness is. You putting your needs before trying to hold your family together. Maybe you resented me for changing your life but you didn’t even give Y a chance. 8 weeks old and you chose to spend free time with Bitch with the added bonus that you managed to get into her pants.
It must have been 7 or 8months before we had sex again. But you never wanted to. Were always reluctant to or “too tired”. I thought you were scared of getting me pregnant again. I also remember it popping into my head that if you are seeing someone else or “getting it elsewhere”, you didn’t want to sleep with me because then it would be like you were cheating on them (Bitch). Which I think is a bit true now. If you are not sleeping with both of us at the same time then you are not mixing it up and you can legally tell her that we do not have sex anymore. The signs were there for me but I patted them down and just thought you didn’t fancy me anymore, I was too plump, too mumsy, nor alluring, too knackered. But I felt your distance. Switched off from sex? You, who loves fucking? I thought you were just relying on watching porn to satiate you. Which still hurt me but at least I was used to knowing that about you.
Then I found your Ashley Madison account but in a way knew you had been a sucker as it was a semi hoax site to get money off men. I asked and you denied ever meeting up with anyone or having an affair but all the time you were. “Anyone else I should know about?”.  That was the time you stormed out and I felt I had hit a nerve as I had never ever seen a reaction like that from you. You didn’t do what any innocent party would have done –  you didn’t reassure me or say I was being daft, that you’d never cheat on me, you went completely opposite and flipped. I filed that away and hoped you were just annoyed at me for reading your emails.
Then you got a new phone. New email address that you never gave me. Always secretive and possessive with your phone. Had it on you 24/7, slept with it under your pillow. Never left it lying about like a relaxed person would. I again thought it was just porn being hidden but another small alarm bell went off. You were always looking at your phone to the point it annoyed me. You couldn’t interact with our children without it being in your hand. I kept quiet.
I desire to see the texts, messages, emails between you andBitch. I think it would help me understand. Yes I am sure there are some conversations I would balk at for their utter lies and fabrication but I am sure there would be others that would explain your course of actions, your neediness, your desire, your requirement for freedom, autonomy, how you painted a picture of your life.
I was truly hurt you could not confide in me over the death of your father. What a huge thing to deal with and not mention. I cannot know how this feels. Your situation is unique. Your dream of him coming calling, making amends, gone. What an awful hurt to bear on your own. Why tell her 4 years later and not me at all? I cannot fathom your thought process in dealing with his death. I know it was a large topic of conversation or a bonding point between you andBitch but it was 4 years ago why use that to get close to someone. I feel you used it to your advantage because she asked me to tell her about “poor dead daddy dearest”, “the Jewish father”, in such a cruel way that I obviously had no idea what she was talking about. And how you went to his funeral as far as I remember her saying, or maybe it was me that asked that – it’s slightly blurry as you can surely imagine. Talking to a women who’s involved with the love of my life, telling me things about you that I don’t know, telling me my story as conveyed to her, which is a pack of lies. How galling to hear the truth from her yet it sounds like you strung her along too.  I hope you are still reading this and not closed it in disgust. I wish you would write me like this so I can get a fucking clue as to who you really are. I know you used the same lines and jokes on her that we shared. Your “sex doll face” being just one of the examples I happened to see. It’s like you morphed parts if your real life into your fake fantasy life to give it a semblance of reality and tangiblity to what was familiar to you. You can’t hide all of yourself from someone. But it hurt to see our shared things become yours and hers things too. I nearly puked when I read the “I love you”s between you both. My world collapsed into some unravelling spiral, with no solidity under my feet. Grasping at the air, holding on to nothing. But it hit me, I knew it was all true, that there’d be nothing you could say to make me think it was a mistake, that I’d taken it out of context. The amount of texts between you both when you were away in Iceland and before staggered me. Me, X, we got a few cursory lines she got gushing miss yous and can’t waits.
Fuck you! You are despicable! I hate you yet cannot turn my back on you for you are part of me. You are my limb. I am nothing without you in my life. I cannot fathom this, I am drowned.
There’s worse I tell myself, we can get through this I tell myself yet it has already gone. It is just the habit and your shape in my mattress that shows you did belong.
You cannot get angry at me for wanting the details, you cannot get angry at me for reminding you of your duplicity. It must have been special for it to have been going on so long. Mad, passionate lust I can understand, thinking with your dick I can understand but knowing you, you have blurred the lines and tried to keep it as friends yet seen an opportunity at the same time to do something you have always burned to do – fuck someone else apart from me. If you had came to me and said, B, I am unhappy that I will never know what it is like to be with another, to know the feel of another woman’s body, too feel the inside of another cunt, to have my mouth around breasts that aren’t yours I would have taken you seriously. I knew you could not go your whole life with just me, you needed to see for yourself, we could have worked something out.  Yes a bit unconventional but honest. You would then understand and know, well from my point of view, there is no fuck that counts more than the ones you can have with that deep connection. I thought we had that deep connection. Your touch still spins me, tingles me, my desire for you whilst not at full burn is always there simmering. The heat can be turned right up should the occasion allow and you know that when we have it good it is really fucking good. I sort of knew you had been with someone else as your technique changed. Trying to reach my gspot was an unusual, new act for you. You never licked me out anymore, which you used to love? Tell me about your connection with her, was it animalistic, purely functional? Missionary? I know she sucked your cock, did you tongue her cunt, throw her on her front, take her from behind? Did she swallow? Did she dress up for you? What the hell did you have that could replace me?
We are each other and perhaps we have both drifted without realising? Perhaps this is our chance to reconnect? That will take honesty perseverance, openbook, tantrums, anger, weeping, rebuilding stronger. Is it worth that effort? Forget the kids. Is it worth it for us? Can we improve or get better than we have ever had it at our past pinnacles? I honestly do not know my answer to this. It is too early on in the raw process. I do know at the moment I cannot stand to look at you, you look pathetic. I want to reach out to you because you are my boy but there is a wall there now. A wall of disgust and anger I do not know how to get over.
Perhaps we have served our purpose together? We have made two beautiful children. Perhaps that is our legacy only? Is it now time to enter someone else’s live’s? Is it time to concentrate on yourself? Discover a greater you? Maybe I can rediscover myself? I am so stuck it stinks. Same job, same friends, same partner. Everything is long term with me. Perhaps I need to shake it up a bit. Maybe this is what we both need?
We may split yet come back together. Yet what I do not want you to do is run off with her. Okay, I do not “know” her but she is not right for you, you were not honest with her so she has fallen for the crafted version of you, not the true you, she would not like the true you if she was in my position. You put her in a ghastly place. I could understand if she knew she was the other woman and played the bit on the side role to perfection, callous, cruel, uncaring  towards your kids, just wanting you and you alone but I don’t believe she is all that else you wouldn’t have fallen for her. There are so many twists in this it is impossible to pick apart.
The ball is in your court. I asked you to leave as I cannot stand seeing you. When I look at you I relive the pain. When I think of our daughter I relive the pain. During her short life you have already been unkind to her. Yes I was right to say “what would your gran make of this?” Your daughter’s namesake. I thought you were proud of and loved your gran. I allowed you to pass her memory on through our daughters name. Now I feel like I am stuck with a child whose name was all about you and your life all the while you couldn’t be bothered in doing the decent thing  for her. What a mess…
What if your mum knew your dad died, what if that spurred her into splitting with shuggie? Life’s too short analogy kicked in? What if he was the love of her life that turned sour because he fucked about after she had given birth to you? Do you know their story or just think you do? Be brave and ask your mum. She will not be surprised at you asking.
One thing this whole thing has done for me is make me less scared. I can open my mouth now and not be timid about what comes out, I feel wise and this experience will make me wiser, I can help others with their problems, I can vocalise my true opinions. It has made me feel alive again. Like a teenager with all the emotions swirling round again. I need to find a new Morrissey though as he doesn’t work for me anymore, try as I might. I am beyond what his lyrics can get me through. It is not angst for the desire of future love or making sense of strange emotions. I know my emotions too well now to be surprised the only trouble I have is navigating the path into old age and rearing children and who sings about that? We are not rioting against unrequited love, yearning for one we cannot have, we now understand the complexities of life, they are not as smooth as leather and never were. We are not virgins waiting to be swept up. We have so much baggage we cannot be swept, it holds us down, yet gives us comfort that we had everything we needed in those bags but require a clear out!
Is this enough for you to understand me in all of this? Some of what I have written may read harshly, blunt and cruel. These are words, not actions. My actions towards you have never been deceitful. I have been truly honest with you throughout our years together. Apart from that one kiss I have now confessed to. (I used to see him around work and avoid him like the plague. I could have pursued it, he would have had me but I had no wish to dilute us or end what we had together). I shall leave you with a poem that breaks my heart and hopefully conveys my feelings of my love for you, X and Y.
Love Me xxxx


The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
a miracle,
in imagination
till born
in human–
looks out of the heart
burning with purity–
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love–
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
–cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

–must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.

The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye–

yes, yes,
that’s what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.

Allen Ginsberg


Do I Send or Ignore?

Last night I was so angry I started writing an email to him. I cannot decided whether to send it or not.

The anger burns deep. Gone is the grief stricken, poor soul, crumbling woman. I never totally disintegrated, I am so much stronger than that but I felt shame, responsibility (laughable I know. This isn’t my doing), like I should be able to fix him. But wait. I don’t want to or need to fix him. He is not my ‘responsibility’ any more. I feel like a weight has been lifted. My perspective and viewpoint has changed.

I see him as a laughable, arrogant, conceited fraudster. He does not have the faith to follow through or admit liability. He says the words but underneath he is cursing me for catching him. It is turned round to be my fault. He has no respect for others or towards himself. He does not even respect the mother of his children enough to explain why he left.

I need to put myself first. Work out what my needs are. I hold all the power and he knows it. Even with my help and financial assistance he couldn’t pull it off,  so his life is probably just as messed up now that he has ‘escaped’.

I know he paints me as a psycho bitch who wants him destroyed but he has destroyed himself. I inadvertently gave. him the noose to hang himself by supporting him and encouraging him to make a go of this business venture. Even now, 7 months after it all went tits up,  I’ve still had to bail him out by paying off the £10k loan and I don’t even get a thank you. He knows I always paid the mortgage. That the house is really mine. It never was an equal partnership. Which is why after a bit of prodding and cajoling, trying to get him to see sense or even just respond, he has eventually signed the house over to me. All done via a lawyer I might add. No direct communication between us apart from facebook messenger nudges and sending annoying messages to slutface to get him to sign.  Oh the screenshots I could show you… I’ll maybe save that for another time.

Anyway, back to the point…  Do I am send him this in an email or not?

XXXXXX, just remember this… I loved you. 

This is going to be blunt. I won’t couch what I have to say in flowery or romantic terms. You know what you meant to me. 
You treated me with no respect or care. You have discarded me and your children with complete contempt.
You have used me to get money to fund a business that you were setting up with another woman yet lying to her too. And as if that wasn’t enough you lied to both of us and disappeared up your own arse with CXXX {‘slutface’}. 
There’s is no explanation.
It seems like utter contempt for everyone.
Lack of respect for us all, for your family, friends and wider.
What made you think you were so special that you could juggle 3 woman?
I’d much rather you had came to me and said you weren’t feeling it with me anymore. That would have been bearable.
To have been discarded twice over is a mind fuck.
I wasn’t good enough for you yet you were happy to live with me, allow me to pay for everything and take yet more money from me.
I didn’t mind because I loved you and when you love someone you support them and respect them and give them honesty, understanding, patience. It’s not just about sex. 
I nor your family or friends have any idea who you are anymore.
Like an old sage I am going to say – ‘you will look back and regret this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but someday.’
Remember, you have done this.
You were leading people down your merry, crazy paved path.
You suckered us all. 
XXXXX {slutface} is that gullible that she’ll lap it up and believe you else she is as twisted as you and will get her own revenge in her sweet way.
Maybe making you fall in love with her will be her payback. It’s hard to see the ‘craziness’ unless you step back from the situation. You are making g her fall in love with you by telling her what she needs to hear. You both make a good team. 
You had what everybody craves, a nice home, lovely children, a sexy and understanding fiancé, nice holidays, good family, my support in many ways.   But it’s not about any of that is it? 
You put yourself first and you know it.
I hope it works out for you but I have a feeling you are on loop, as you have shown.
Step off the madness or continue on? Only you can decide…
I think I may know the root cause of all this.
You do too but like your mother you are not brave enough to say. To come to terms.
It gets swept aside.
I speak the truth and you don’t like that. Not because you are a dishonest person, because you are scared. It is fear that has driven you for years. Not just you. Fear is at the heart of everything we do. How we think, what we do, how we interact with people. 
I am typing this but I don’t know whether to send it. What good will it do?  I can’t help you undo 30 odd years of hurt and shame. Suppression.
I understand but I cannot help you nor feel like helping you anymore.
You know I am not a bad person, that I didn’t deserve to be treated like this by anyone. 
You may not like me for my clarity but it is not resentment you bear towards me it is jealousy. It is from the inside. 
I wish you well. 

A letter to him

This is a letter I wrote on the 10th April, before I had moments of clarity and determination,  (I was already having them but didn’t realise, I thought I was in panic mode and floundering but reading it back I realise I wasn’t.) My guts, strength and determination shine through.

“I realise everything seems to be a struggle for you. I am not sure you even know what your plans are.
I have tried to sort things amicably and it has turned sour for various reasons that we are all guilty of.
Again I feel I am left to sort this as you come across as if you are paralysed and struck with fear. You do not know where to turn and are relying on the unwieldy NHS mechanism to point you in the direction.
I cannot help you conquer your demons but I can clearly see what you need to do practically. I know you maybe do not want to hear this from me as you detest my supposed ‘superiority’ and controlling attitude. I beg to differ. My heart is always in the right place. I now know what kind of personality traits I have and I’m learning to work on them for the better. My future sanity depends on me doing this. I need to firm up inside as I am always worried I’ll do or say the wrong thing, which makes me into a goody goody when really I have kick ass attitudes in parallel. I am a walking juxtaposition, as we all are. Multi faceted….
I feel like I can’t help but want to fix you and mother you which is I’m sure what slutface wants to do too but not what she thought she was signing up for. Do I proceed?
My clarity is not applicable to you. You cannot see what I can see. I am an empath. I do not know what you are. Only you can evaluate that.
Don’t play games with the doctors, truth and release of fear should hopefully set you free to soar and be the best you can be. Don’t let fear paralyse you.
I am open and worry about others. You appear selfish and only concerned with what benefits you without intentionally upsetting other people. (semi narcissistic? But you do upset them once they realise your lies) Sometimes you have to upset people for your own good. If they are emotionally attuned they will understand….
How would you like to proceed? I’d like separate mediation sessions. A routine for the kids. Time to myself. An evening off every now and again. Money for kids paid. You to contribute to mortgage and bills for your kids else sign house over to me. My name taken off that debt. The 6 grand paid back. Your friend needs paid back his 5 grand. He needs it for his kid too. I think he believes you have defrauded him, as do I. That could become a police or legal matter if he gets desperate.
How do we enable all this? What are your wants and priorities?
I can see a solution for us that involves compromise but I am reluctant to mention it as it makes me angry beyond belief.
I am traumatised by this too. I just have a different way of dealing with it. And to be honest apart from the practicalities I do not know how to proceed. Do I go and fuck it out me with some guy? Do I hide myself away? Do I disappear or relocate? The world is my oyster and I know not what direction to go in. I am tethered by my children. So should you be. Doesn’t stop us living but our priorities should still be them. The two innocents in all this. It is our duty to protect and nourish them, practically and emotionally. Yes I can do it myself as I’ve had no choice but they’d rather you were involved. You have a lot to offer them. You are a special person. You are ultimately kind and decent. You try your hardest. Make yourself proud. Don’t worry about other people. In doing it for yourself you open your kids up to the full potential of life. Don’t be negative. Fight the fear.
My love, always (in some new form now)