Monday

I did not write all weekend. I did not have a chance! Had no real alone time.

Things are....I guess good, finally. Not great, and certainly not best, but good. We have not yet talked about the crap that got us to that point last week. I don't want to. I just want to move a head and not look back. WAY too much pain. Both mental and physical.

I'm still bruised on my arm. Looks nasty, too, seeing as it is subdermal bruising, not the usual surface stuff. My thigh is mainly healed. Not sore to touch anymore.

I HAVE been close to crying today, tho. I no longer like the sleeping arraignments that we have for during the week. He doesn't need to be out in the livingroom anymore! I want him in bed with me, by 3 am. I won't get that, so I probably won't even fucking try. He used to come to bed by then, and sleep. Now, he is awake til 5 am or so. Sometimes later. Shit....crying....

Saturday's shit

Well....the day is pretty much over and gone. Things were not so bad today. We actually showed affection for each other. He invited me to snuggle while watching a movie. There are still little gibes said, but I am unsure if they are being said to hurt, or to tease. So, I decided to let them go as teasing. I have to. I have no choice. I can not and will not live thru another week such as I have already had.

Friday's shit, part 1

He did not eat again yesterday, just drank himself into a stupor. Again.

Last night, after he ignored me once again, I lit into him. Of course, he was "drunk" already. Couldn't talk. Of course. I cried, he stumbled n tripped over his words. Eventually he did say he never stopped loving me. That was all I had needed to hear for 2 FUCKING DAYS!!!! Didn't matter much, tho. I still went and cut before I went to bed. My leg...tried on my arm. Just caused more bruising. But my leg has a few good lines. Helped me get to a point where I was no longer crying.

I also prayed to God to take my pain and to bring Bryce and I back to each other. I hope he heard me.

thursday's shit, part 3

Still continues. I cut, again, for the 3rd time. After my computer slid onto the floor, I broke down. Started crying. he can out to see what was wrong...I looked at him and said, thanks for making my life hell. Went down to the garage to cry some. Had to pee, so I came up and ripped into him, crying the whole time. I think this is really it. I can not take anymore. I am ready to die. I want to die. And I don't want to die. I just want the fucking PAIN to stop!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

thursday's shit, part 2

Seems to be continuing. He has barely spoken to me.....did not acknowledge Moo and I going in for a nap. And now the asshat is refusing to get out of bed. It has been close to 45 minutes now since his alarm went off.

WHY do I bother? Why do I care?

Oh..tried to cut again...my leg and arm this time. He hasn't even noticed my arm as it is. Either that or he really doesn't give a shit.

thursday's shit, part 1

Did not post yesterday. Thought things were good. Until last night. With "teasing", he pretty much refused to kiss me good night. So, I cried myself to sleep. Lovely, huh? so I refused to say goodnight to him this am, and I was SO not gonna kiss him either. Fuck him.

tuesday's shit, part 2

We are talking....and I asked him for a hug. At first, he would not put his arms around me. Like I was a leper or some fucking thing. See? I'm a masochist. More than I am a sadist. Which he has been trying to make me into. So I can beat him and all that happy motherfucking crap. *sighs* My head hurts. My arm is stingy....not bad, just a little, enough to make me know there are slight cuts. *shrugs* Fuck it. My arm, my life.

tuesday's shit, part 1

Woke early, horrible headache. Couldn't sleep. He would not even say goodnight to me. Just shut down his work shit, grabbed his phone, shut off the light and shut the fucking door. *shrugs* What ever. He can kiss my ass, go to hell, what ever the fuck. I don't care anymore. I am not even sure I love him anymore. I just..........don't know. He has hurt me so very much the past few years. Hurt me to the point of a deep need to hurt myself. Hurt me to the point of having to go on antidepressant medication. I think post partum was just the base for all that. I could have gotten over that just fine, if not for all the fucking bullshit of an inner kid who has a deep seated need to be fucked by men. Lovely, eh? If I said sure, go, I am positive he would go and find some guy to get fucked by. Positive. And he wouldn't see anything wrong with it. Why??? Because he has no fucking sense of commitment in that aspect. That happens when your brought up seeing that happen all the time..... A father who will fuck anything with a dick and will bend over, including his own sons, and an uncle and his lover who decide your their new fuck toy because your a cute teenager. Wrong way to live. Way wrong. And I am the one who has to adapt? No. Not anymore. I'm tired of it all. I want a normal marriage, but I know I am never going to have it.

Who would want me, anyway? I'm fat, ugly, a bitch. I feel almost like I want to die right now. I think the only ones to miss me would be my daughters. But they are young enough, they'd get over it. At least, I like to think they'd miss me. Not sure on that anymore either.

Oh, I finally did cut my arm. Didn't feel anything...no pain, no release, nothing. Who fucking cares, anyway. He certainly doesn't.

today's shit

I think my marriage is over. And the really sad thing? I don't think I care anymore. I can no longer handle being Mommy to a fake child "living" inside my dear husband. Oops...make that 2. This is a fucked life. I have been "living" this life since just after my last baby was born. Just about 3 1/2 years. I almost wish my marriage ended then. At least, I would not be 1200+ fucking miles from all of my family. Virtually alone. No real friends....no family here at all. I don't know if I can do this anymore. All I do have here are my girls. Without them, I fear where I would be....probably 6 feet under by now.

I tried cutting my arm tonight. Fucking blade was dull. Just some raised bumps. No cuts. I even fuck THAT up.

Yeah...I said some terrible things. I wouldn't have, if he hadn't started it. He couldn't have hurt me more if he had hit me. So.....do I stay or go? I have no money...no where to go. No one to turn to. So I guess I have to stay.

He said....you haven't held me for a long time. Why? Because I never have my husband anymore. It's always someone else. It usually also ends up being about him, what he wants, what HIS needs are. Like I don't have any? I guess not, according to him.

And so.....I try and cut. And it is fucking dull. I wish my emotions were dull. Then I would not be in so much pain. Which is why I try and cut. To release that pain. But, again....dull. So I sit and I cry and I suffer. AND THE FUCK TARD WILL NOT EVEN TALK TO ME!!!!!!

GO TO FUCKING HELL BRYCE EDWARD WILSON.