Let me set the stage for you:
It’s 11pm on Saturday night and I’m literally stepping into the shower when I hear my 2 year old throwing up in her bed. I leave the shower on, throw my pjs back on, and go get her. My husband is still at work, but I texted him to let him know what’s going on. He responds saying he’ll try to get out as soon as he can.
Her and I get in the shower together and I wash her off and scrub her hair. I’m then left with the daunting task of cleaning her bed and taking care of her at the same time. Of course this is the night the bathtub decides it isn’t going to drain 😩 Well, by midnight we are both cleaned up and she has clean sheets and pillows on her bed, with the dirty ones rinsed off and in the washing machine. Husband still isn’t home.
By 12:45, she’s finally ready to go back to bed. I get her into bed and finally get into my own bed around 1am. Husband finally gets home around 1/1:15am…two hours after I texted.
Today (Monday), he goes to pickup pizza and leaves his phone here. I look through his texts (don’t judge me – you would too if you had a husband who lied to you about everything). Want to know where he was from 10:30-12:30 on Saturday night? Out at a bar drinking. When he got the text saying his daughter was throwing up, he didn’t come home to help me; he chose to stay. And not just to finish his drink. He stayed for an hour and a half.
When I confronted him, he said it was basically my fault because I’ve been pushing him to get this promotion and he was talking to his boss about it.
We almost separated this past summer and now I am wishing we had. The worst part is that I was just telling my friend today how much better things have been. But obviously I was way wrong. I’m so stupid for thinking things would get better – for thinking he would actually change. I hate myself for staying when I wanted to leave in July.
I’m struggling with strong urges to cut. Of course that means my Crow Pose was phenomenal – because you can’t think about killing yourself when you’re doing cool yoga shit. I can’t stop crying. I haven’t been this emotionally dysregulated in probably 2.5 months. I’ve locked myself in my bathroom and I’m staying in legs up the wall until my feet go numb.