Saturday, September 07, 2013
Saturday, January 05, 2013
all is lost
As usual, everything that can go wrong has gone wrong.
I'm back with my husband, in the country I ran from in 2011. There is no intimacy, no affection, as always. But we don't fight anymore, because I have no fight left in me.
My days are dark and my nights are spent awake, quiet and alone, hating myself for what I have done and for what I have left undone.
The man I spoke so highly of in a previous entry, the one I thought would be my partner for life, is gone. He couldn't cope with me. He ended up hitting me in frustration...on two occasions. The first time he got a second chance, because he swore it would never happen again and found a counsellor to help us before he returned to the house. The second time, last July, he hit me for no real reason. I left him and came back here.
No man has hit me in anger since I left my family of origin. Somehow I have escaped that kind of abuse since I left my mother's house, even though I've been abused in every other way.
Now, I wish I had forgiven him, because I am traumatised, agonised, broken and lost, but I still love him above all others.
And I know from our rare communications that he is happier now than ever in his life, happy and settled in with a new girl, a girl who is pretty much my clone, other than that she has been cared for all her life and is being cared for now (the sort of good, professional care that I have been denied all my life). And she is 12 years younger than me, and speaks his native language, which I could not learn no matter how I tried.
And as for me? I drift through my days. I rarely leave my house. I take my medication as directed, I try to find the energy to shower once or twice a week. I do as little as I can get away with, even though I know that will eventually turn my marriage back into the complete ruin it was when I left here.
And I mourn the fact that I can't afford to tell the uncaring doctors to fuck off and drink myself to death. I can't drink at all, because of the medication and because we are so broke that we can barely pay for food.
Some things you do just to see
How bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time
'Til those thoughts are a blur of spinning wheels
But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean
Long black night, morning frost
I'm still here, but all is lost
I'm back with my husband, in the country I ran from in 2011. There is no intimacy, no affection, as always. But we don't fight anymore, because I have no fight left in me.
My days are dark and my nights are spent awake, quiet and alone, hating myself for what I have done and for what I have left undone.
The man I spoke so highly of in a previous entry, the one I thought would be my partner for life, is gone. He couldn't cope with me. He ended up hitting me in frustration...on two occasions. The first time he got a second chance, because he swore it would never happen again and found a counsellor to help us before he returned to the house. The second time, last July, he hit me for no real reason. I left him and came back here.
No man has hit me in anger since I left my family of origin. Somehow I have escaped that kind of abuse since I left my mother's house, even though I've been abused in every other way.
Now, I wish I had forgiven him, because I am traumatised, agonised, broken and lost, but I still love him above all others.
And I know from our rare communications that he is happier now than ever in his life, happy and settled in with a new girl, a girl who is pretty much my clone, other than that she has been cared for all her life and is being cared for now (the sort of good, professional care that I have been denied all my life). And she is 12 years younger than me, and speaks his native language, which I could not learn no matter how I tried.
And as for me? I drift through my days. I rarely leave my house. I take my medication as directed, I try to find the energy to shower once or twice a week. I do as little as I can get away with, even though I know that will eventually turn my marriage back into the complete ruin it was when I left here.
And I mourn the fact that I can't afford to tell the uncaring doctors to fuck off and drink myself to death. I can't drink at all, because of the medication and because we are so broke that we can barely pay for food.
Some things you do just to see
How bad they'll make you feel
Sometimes you try to freeze time
'Til those thoughts are a blur of spinning wheels
But I am just a broken machine
And I do things that I don't really mean
Long black night, morning frost
I'm still here, but all is lost
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