Round and round the roundabout

I’ve been a bit quiet on here. The last month I tried to concentrate on studying, trying to create the best future I can for my impending arrival. 

I also put myself back into the hell hole  I was in before. I opened myself up to be hurt, in the exact same way I was before. I put my trust and faith into love back into his reach. He took it. Wrung it out for everything it was worth. And left me hurt, cutting the pain from my body, no better then I ever was before. 

I had gained everything. I was strong. I was independent. I was learning how to be happy. And now I have to start that process all over again. But I guess that doesn’t matter. At least this time I knew sooner. I didn’t let it get to the extreme it did before. 

I guess at first, I saw the changes I wanted to see. I saw him become more interested in the baby and get a job. All good signs at first. He seemed to care again about me, about the baby. But really he was using me as an easy money machine. He knew I’d help him if he pretended to care. And I did. So once again I’m left with nothing, but empty pockets and a heavy heart. 

I saw his false promises as all my dreams come true. I should have known better then to believe them. On closer look, nothing had changed. Last night he woke me up to go through my phone. Found nothing. Hounded me to tell him what’s on my mind. I caved, told him about my fears about being pregnant. Things you can’t say to people because people will think your a bad parent. It was hard to tell him. I cried my way through it and got the reply of ‘goodnight’. Apparently what was on my mind wasn’t good enough for him. So despite my obvious pain and distress at having to tell him my greatest fears I got nothing. 

Upon finding chats sites and snapchats to other girls on his phone tonight it’s no wonder he’s so paranoid about my phone. It’s just a shame I have better things to do with my time then message other guys pictures and suggestive messages. But apparently it’s my fault, because it’s so hard to be with me again. 

So that gives him the excuse to do exactly what broke me to begin with. He invited me to stay at his house, then didn’t bother to spend any time with me, told me to go to bed when I dared suggest that this behaviour mirrored the situation we were in before and didn’t bother to come to bed until 5 am. Sweet way to spend one of my 2 nights off per week. 

How did I fall for this all again? I wanted to see the best in someone. I wanted to see the change I believed was possible. Now I just realise that nothing can change that. It’s not me. I did change. My life was good. I escaped finally. Only to be dragged back down. But I know I don’t want to be here in his room, alone, cutting my life into little bits to make the pain go away. I’m better then that. 

Xx

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Round and round the roundabout

Taking the wrong turn

Like I’ve said previously, I was not innocent in the ultimate demise of my happy little family. When things eventually hit rock bottom and i was at an all time low, I decided I had to hurt him back. I wanted him to hurt like id been hurting for so long. I wanted him to feel the pain and suffering that I’d felt for weeks and weeks on end. So I made a tinder account, and started talking to one of his friends. I didn’t have any intentions to do anything sexually. I just find that totally weird since Im pregnant, and, ultimately I could never be sexual with anyone else, and I still can’t even think about being intimate with anyone except for the father of my child. I still love him, and its just wrong to think of anyone else like that. In my opinion anyway.

I picked up his friend. We went to my my house. He was wasted. And listening to him babble on non stop provided me with a good distraction from the pain I was feeling. But not for long. Luckily another friend came over, and he could listen to the babble while i sat in peace dwelling on my thoughts. I don’t know what I was thinking on that night. I also has a small sesh. Even thought smoking Pot while pregnant went against everything I had stood for. I just had kind of given up on everything at this point. I am disgusted in myself now, but at the time I just couldn’t see the way out. The pot helped me calm down, which is good for the baby i guess.

I was glad when they finally left. All I wanted to do was sleep. It was late, and I was tired, and an emotional mess.

I started moving out the next day. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But i guess, in hindsight the right thing. Im finally able to sleep (sometimes), and I don’t constantly worry about him, or what he’s doing. It took until the weekend just been ( about 3 weeks) for him to get out of our house, a bit of an issue since we were both on the tenancy. But we got there in the end. I was exhausted. I felt like I’d been moving forever, then he was pretty lack lustre with helping. The main thing is that its all over now. Im still paying off bills from living there, but thats just life I guess. Im hoping that he will soon be able to chip in and help with those bills. But I’m not holding my breath. At least now I do have some money to be able to buy lovely little things for the baby! Its so exciting. Living back at home though.. well thats a different story all together.

Time to enjoy my beautiful little boy kicking me from the inside before I get some sleep

xx

Taking the wrong turn

the rocky mountains

As my pregnancy grew on, we were at the point where I was in a constant state of depression, nothing could make me happy. I was paying all of our bills, all of our rent, and paying for his smoking habit, because it was easier to say yes then create more angst by saying no.

I was working, and when i wasn’t at work I was at home feeling alone (I work as a waitress, so work in the afternoon usually 2-10 or 11ish). I usually came home to an empty house, or to the house empty, but the cracks of light shining through the garage windows that were covered so I couldn’t see in.

It wasn’t long before I started getting suspicious of his late night antics. He wasn’t interested sexually, so I figured he must be getting pleasure from elsewhere. I found browser history full of dirty chat sites, online dating sites and more, plus apps downloaded where he was messaging girls for pics and talking to them sexually. I was broken. But I stayed. I loved him.  Im not innocent. I had met up with an ex before, knowing that he didn’t like it, and that it hurt him. It was completely innocent, I was never interested in anyone else sexually at all. So I stayed, and he kept using these sites and apps, each time knowing it hurt me. Absolutely killed me, and made me feel totally unwanted, and like he wasn’t interested now that i was pregnant.

One morning I woke up, he was supposed to be getting ready for work. I want to the garage, the door was half open and his wallet and phone were left on a seat in there. Panic struck in, there i was, pregnant, worried about what could have happened to him. The worst things go through your head, has something bad happened, did he owe someone money? Has he gone somewhere and got into trouble. His dad turned up to take him to work, I had to tell him Jake wasn’t there, balling my eyes out, because I was so worried about where he was. All of a sudden, he appeared behind me. He had fallen asleep in our wardrobe. This was the first of the super unusual behaviour beginning to appear. Not long after that, I found him asleep in the roof.

Then there was the paranoia, after taking god knows what, we had been arguing. He kept coming in and out, in and out of the house, waking me every time. well not that I could sleep anyway. But when I had been in bed, all of a sudden one night I woke to him bursting in telling me someone had been in the house. And that he had seen me going into the kitchen and heard me unlock the door. I knew i had been in the kitchen, I had gotten a glass of water to take a couple of paracetamol. I opened the door, to see if jake was out there. He wasn’t. I closed it, locked it and went to bed. Well so I thought. But next minute I was being accused of letting someone inside. He went through my phone to see who I had text, but the activity log on my bill showed I hadn’t text anyone. But I had been on the internet in bed. So therefore I was accused of messaging someone on Facebook, and leaving the back door open for them. He claims he saw someones light as he was sitting outside. I didn’t know what to do. For the first time, I was scared of him. He clearly had no idea what was going on. I hadn’t done any of that, why would I let someone into my house? I’m not the sort of person that likes to talk to my friends when something is going wrong. Thats why I like this. and not to mention, I was trying to go to bed. Pregnancy makes you tired. But there was this scary paranoia, like he was possessed by something. He was so sure that it was me. I had to leave. I didn’t feel safe. I went to the Police Station and called his parents. His parents took him home and finally I got some sleep without being accused of whatever bullshit he had convinced himself was real. And maybe he wasn’t lying, maybe he did see a light, and maybe there was someone in or house. But how could I believe him after the false scenario he had blamed me of? if he was so sure that had happened how could i believe the rest of what he said?

The paranoia continued after this, a number of nights he would stalk around our house, hearing noises, seeing shadows. The more this happened, the bigger my fear for my own safety grew, and that of my unborn child. What if I got up to gook for jake, went outside and he shot at me with his nailgun? what if when the baby was here, it made a noise and he got confused and shot at the baby. Its all good and well to say that would never happen, but when he was constantly thinking every little scuffle of a hedgehog was someone creeping around the house, how could I be sure?

Until next time x

the rocky mountains

the bumpy road

Everyone talks about the joy of pregnancy, how exciting a time it is in life. People expect expectant mothers to glow. What they don’t tell you, is that it can also be one of the hardest and most lonely times in an womens life. Well it is for me. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.

I found out I was pregnant very early on into my pregnancy. I remember rushing home from work, doing the test and the shock of that ever so faint second pink line appearing. I went to the lounge where my partner was sitting on the couch. I showed him the test. He asked what it meant, I  think more to confirm what he knew. I don’t know if maybe I should have seen it then, the shock in his reaction. but then again, maybe not. From that moment, my life changed. I gave up everything for my baby, to ensure that he was healthy. and those first few weeks were exciting. When he told all his friends and his parents, he was excited.

But then it all changed. Not long after the excitement of telling everyone had died down, the reality set in. I was tired, and sick all the time. I became needy, and began to feel lonely. I couldn’t go out because I was to tired, and didn’t want to be around smoke or drugs. When I did go I felt guilty being around people smoking. And it was hard watching my friends all having a good time. I just wasn’t on the same level as anyone else. The more this happened the less I wanted to go out. And the more time he wanted to spend away from me. Our house had a separate garage, so that became his oasis. He would sit in there for hours. He would lock me out, making me knock and shout through the doors at him if I wanted something. I started feeling unwanted. Weekend after weekend and some weeknights, I would be inside while he had his friends over in the garage. I felt excluded. It hurt so much. Even when I asked for a night just the 2 of us, I was never given the pleasure of his company. The fights started to get worse, and more and more frequent. It was a vicious circle. The more we fought, the more time he would spend in the garage, which would make us fight even more. It happened weekend after weekend after weekend.

I was struggling with feeling lonely. I would be sitting inside, all alone, while he took drugs in the garage, sometimes with friends, sometimes without. I would fall asleep alone, and usually after crying and crying, begging him to spend some time with me. The worse it got, the worse I felt. I couldn’t bring myself to be excited about this little thing growing inside me. Eventually, all I wanted to do was die. I cut my legs and cut my arms, it helped the pain i felt escape from me. it got worse and worse, He would go out, and not bother letting me know where he was or when he would be home. Leaving me to cope with my already low mood by myself. I couldn’t keep doing it. I tried and tried so many times to hang myself. I tied a noose, I put my head in it. But I couldn’t do it. Because of my baby, who in those desperate times of need, provided me the strength i needed to carry on. I don’t know if it was just my imagination, but I could feel him there, I could feel him inside me, right when I needed to.

Eventually, when it all got to much, I finally went to the doctor and got help. I was referred to the Mental Health Team at the local hospital. they were helpful, and gave me something to help me sleep (after being up arguing for the previous 5 days). I slept, but the situation didn’t change.

ill be back soon with more soon, but right now i need to sleep. x

the bumpy road