This blog is not good for me. I’ve been reading through some of the earlier entries, mainly the ones from the last 2 or 3 months, and I’m filled with rage. I want to hurt myself. I was seriously contemplating taking the big butcher knife and just jabbing it into my stomach. Or cutting my arms. Or just driving off a mountain. I’m not sure how much of this I can take. Zack is depressed and anxious and his family and best friend all hate me and think he’d be better off without me. For all I know he’s fucking Harley. They did it. They put their master plan into action and he’s got his kids here with him in our current state and his whore is only 6 hours away. I hate it here. I miss my friends and everything I used to do.
The only thing that keeps me going is my kids. How can I leave them with him when he’s such a mess himself? Maybe with me gone he’d do better, though. He would have to.
I keep going but I just want to lie down and die. Any little tiny spark of hope I get is flushed away quickly and I’m overcome with a sense of despair. I’m not sure life is worth living anymore. I can feel the darkness overwhelming me and even though I try to struggle and rise above it, I sometimes just let it. I don’t want to disappoint or traumatize my kids but I don’t think I can take much more. It’s got to get better or I’m going to end it. I don’t know how yet. I’ll give it until the end of the school year.
Present Day Sam Says: Again, this was a very dark time for me. I had been moved across the country. I was pretty much on my own. My husband was drinking and crying all the time. My son hated living here. I knew deep in my bones that everyone in his tiny circle was lobbying against me and I felt helpless to defend myself against that because of Zack’s mental state. I had gambled that our marriage was going to be better than ever, that this move was going to be great for us, both as a couple and as a family, and I was watching as it all collapsed around my feet. But… I’m better now.