Wednesday, 3 April 2013
I came home last night to find my husband passed out on the couch, cigarette buts on the carpet, empty vodka bottle, kitchen trashed, plates and half eaten food everywhere, my son nowhere to be seen. I decided to take an Atavan (first time ever) and try to be low key. My emotions couldn't take much more and I was just trying to avoid any confrontation of any sort. I quietly sat in the bedroom, TV on the lowest volume and hid.
About an hour later my husband woke up and began fighting with me, so drunk he couldn't stand up. He then called me a fat unattractive pig that nobody wants. After that jab, he picked up the phone and called his mistress. I decided to pick up and listen in...it broke my heart. I heard them chatting like lovers.
I hung up the phone, packed my bag and left. I tried to reach my daughter to stay at her house but she had plans (I'm paying a dear price for asking her for help..I should never have called her). I had nowhere to go. I walked into the hospital emergency room and they said they were full, would take at least 7 hours to see someone. I left, again with nowhere to go. "The only place I could think of to go was back to my apartment building and in the "games" room. I slept there last night, in the basement of my apartment, in the common room. Homeless, my entire family turned on me. I have never felt more alone in my entire life. My husband emotionally abusing me, my daughter turning her back on me and my son...well, nothing actually, he could care less if I was dead. Not even the hospital would help me.
So, at the end of the day, what is left? The addicts get to have / do whatever they want and I am the one who breaks down. I really don't matter to my community, to my family and I basically have no real friends. I am invisible and have no value or worth to this world. I am just a shadow. Seriously, without sounding overly dramatic...would it really matter if I were to die today? Nobody really wants me around anyways.