I started writing a post a week ago about what my husband did one night when the kids were more trouble than they should have been.
As I was writing the post I realised that there were somethings that I did that night that were pretty childish. My mind immediately started making excuses for being childish..
Well I wouldn’t be this way if it wasn’t for. …
But then I knew that was ridiculous because no matter what happened to me… I have a choice not to be a bitch or just plain immature.
Anyway before I could finish that post… things got in the way and I forgot about it.
Yesterday my husband and I had our counselling session and it was full on. A part of me felt like she was picking on me but a tiny part of me knew she was right. Again my brain started making excuses… well she’s a shitty counselor anyway
No she’s not. She is right.
I need to stop blaming people. Yes it was their fault but no you didn’t have to react that way. Yes it is a scary thought that people might take advantage of you if are nice to them but that is on them. NOT YOU.
Its going to be a long road ahead. For a long time I kept telling myself that I need to stay alive and sane for my kids but that’s not true. ..
I need to stay alive and sane for me. ME. Because I can’t let the past define who I am.
I feel my anger filling me up again because everything is just so unfair
How much do I sound like a teenager right now?
I want to write why I am angry but it’s not just one thing… it’s the little things… like the house being a constant mess, and it’s not just because of the kids, my husband seems to be okay with living in a sty as well. I am getting sick of picking up after everybody. At least if it was my house I would be able to do it later but now I have the added pressure of my mum or my dad nagging about everything dirty the entire time. And they don’t nag me, they expect my husband to clean up… which deep inside I know is fair because he is the one that leaves the coke cans and the laundry everywhere but for goodness sake DON’T TELL HIM THAT! If you do he’ll hate you more… and if he hates you more then he’ll hate me more…. he’ll be in a grumpy mood for the next 6 months… even the slightest thing will make him hate everything even more and then I would have to compromise more and more until I get exhausted and get angry and then the kids would cry and then the kids would hate me and run to their dad….. who was the one who started this all in the first place!!! So I conclude that this is entirely my parents fault for ruining my life.
So…. there it is… my reason for anger….. it’s the little things that make you realise how controlled your life is.
Just you know …. I just need to hang on for like 20 more years till my kids are old enough to move out and then I’ll leave him …
Just hang on for 20 more years… then you can ask your parents to forgive you.
Just 20 more years.
I don’t have much hope for our counselling session because it is just how my life works.
My therapist agrees that my life is Chaos and she wants to see if my husband will work with me to help it get better and I asked her… what if he doesn’t and she said
“Then we’ll work in the two of being parents rather than partners.”
I hope this happens. I want to start my life again.
I have been trying to write the third part of my story for a long time now but the truth is I am not the type to sit down, think about it and then put it into words. Good or bad, emotions drive me so that’s exactly what I am going to do. Just let the emotions write the last part of my story.
The whole reason I started this blog is because I needed someone to hear my story and validate it, to say … “man oh man that’s tough!” Yea I know how it sounds like… like I was just looking for attention? But I was… I AM! And this is why…
Part 1 here
Part 2 here
A few months after my wedding, things in my parents house was getting unbearable. There was an argument that broke out between my parents and I and this was the first one we had had since my sister left the house. So it was BIG. In my moment of anger I asked my mum If she remembered the day I told her about my uncle. Mind you, we don’t talk about anything taboo in my family and in my question to her, I never specified which uncle or what day.
Mum says “Yea, I do. You were around 6. You were wearing your light pink dress, you were standing in the lounge and I was sitting in the dining room with your grandmother… you told me he touched you”
Continue reading The whole truth and nothing but the truth
Even longer nights
Constantly surrounded by negative thoughts
Constantly being reminded of how insignificant you are
Constantly surrounded by people who just dont care
Constantly being reminded that there is no one in this world that loves you
Like genuinely loves you
You are all alone
And there is nothing you can do to change it.
Today has been a particularly
hard… tiring day.
Good old Mr. Virus decided to attack me last night, so I have this incredibly feels-like-glass kinda sore throat and cough. To top that off my entire body is shivering and hurts like I have been hit by a truck. Not sure if this is from the accident or the flu… or both. To top THAT off, when I woke up this morning my dad decided to pick a fight with me.
I told him that the tow truck driver was coming to drop off the car until the dispute gets resolved and his reaction was to call me names, he called my husband names, My kids were crying, I called him names, My mum was trying to diffuse the situation and I regret not punching him.
I am so drained. Physically and Emotionally completely and utterly drained. I cannot give anymore, I don’t have the energy to take either. I have literally given them my entire life and they still keep asking for more WHILE wondering why on earth I am actually mad! I just want things to work out for once without me having to go through so much sorrow. I know nothing comes easy in life but honestly asking for some help when I have just nearly died a few days ago is not that bad to ask is it? Is God not watching this? Is he even there?
I’ll be honest and I promise I am not over-reacting. I wish I had died in that accident. I would like to think that, that might have let people know how much I actually do in this house. But I know it wouldn’t have. Me dying would have amounted to nothing, because they would have just blamed my husband and kicked him out of the house.
Because that’s just my Indian Family.
My dad sent me an email yesterday about how upset he was that I hadn’t wished him for his birthday. He said he’d rather die than live like this.
I was going to reply back to him and tell him If you felt that way just because someone hadn’t wished you. … can you imagine how one might feel for being called a liar for talking about their abuse. Should I kill myself then?
I didn’t. Not because I am the bigger person, but because it will only fall on deaf ears. They all only think about themselves. So I simply hit delete.
This decision is going to haunt me for awhile but I think I made the right choice.
I can’t talk about our first night. Because at no ones fault… it was incredibly horrifying for me. My depression was the only thing to blame. To this day my husband has no idea about this. It will break him if he finds out. I cried myself to sleep that night. But I picked myself up again and I woke up the next day as if it was all okay.
A couple of days later I was at my in-law’s town. I would be meeting every single member of my husbands family here. Walking into my their house, felt like walking into one of those old ads that they show on TV. The mum with the apron in the kitchen making delicious food. Everyone smiling and laughing, the whole family together, joking around.
I wanted this life. I wanted the atmosphere, I wanted the peace, I wanted to smile and I was in it and I loved it. My father in law would call me his daughter and my mother in law would tell me everyday how much she always wanted a daughter. She would take me out around her area and show me off. I never had to cook, i never had to clean. I was a princess.
Continue reading The Whole truth and nothing but the truth (pt2)
The thought that my kids might be part of a broken home scares me.
I just look at my daughter and I know, as strong as she is, it will break her. She is so mature but she’s at that age where she gets influenced by everything around her. She kept scratching me last night because I wouldn’t play with her. That was her mimicking me in a fight with my husband.
I tried explaining to her that even though mum does it that she shouldn’t be doing it. I apologized to her for scaring her like that but I think she’s too young to understand any of this.
I might have already ruined her with my anger.
My biggest nightmare is unfolding right in front of me and it’s all my fault.