Everything that happened to Jenny and Pooh was hard. I felt like a battled soldier, bruised and beaten but winning the war was a sense of accomplishment knowing my kids are going to be okay. That may be part of the PTSD, but it seems to describe how I feel about everything at this point.
My marriage took a toll on things and maybe even before all this happened. My husband struggles to accept the fact their needs have to be first and foremost. His lack of support and feelings on the situation caused me to feel he wanted no part of it. Of course, they are not going to fix on their own. So his only solution is to fall off the wagon after six years to tell me what he thinks of me while drunk. I felt I shut down at that point knowing I couldn’t count on him.
Because after all this he manages to file for divorce. So I guess when things get bad only on my end I’m useless to him. Because that exactly how it feels.
I have to say it a cheap shot. And a bit selfish. When I’m down already, take me down completely right?