I suppose I finally got my answer to my previous journal entry.
It was when I realized my husband was playing with my mind/sanity, that my marriage is over. I am certain that he was saying X in the past, yet he (until this very entry, or the last time I saw him this afternoon before I boarded the plane to other town) denied it. Finally denied it, after more than three years of passive-agressive about me demanding that he did say/promised X.
We got a heated argument that left me crying for hours. Questioning my sanity. My life choices. My son. I even thought, well perhaps I should compromise again, even when it was hard. But then on my son’s birthday another argument broke, and I finally got my answer.
He made me feel I am a bad mother. I did not say a word.
He told me I am an ungrateful bitch. I did not say a word.
He told me he does not love me anymore. I did not say a word.
He told me that I must have hated his mother. This time, I spoke up to told him that in fact, I did not hate my mother in law. To which, he did not believe.
And as I lay on the floor, shocked, defenseless, he kicked me.
I will never forget that.
I never thought you could cry until your head hurts, that you’d need to take paracetamol. I never thought my husband would hit and kicked me. I never thought he’d make me feel like the worst mother ever. I never thought he could sleep peacefully knowing that I was hurting.
But again, I never thought a lot before, it seemed… and I never thought I am going to be a single mother, just before my 32th birthday.
My whole body hurts and I cannot move or lay comfortably. The only visible telltale of it are the bruises on my knees as I was cast down by him.
What I need was him to be responsible for his words, but instead he made me questioning my sanity. I wanted him to put me as priority, but there were a lot of excuses for him not to do so.
But again, while writing this, the voice in my head is telling me that “Bitch, you are playing victim here,”
Even I am questioning my sanity.