Just journalling here. A memory from the immediate post-BD weeks. I want to say late June 2019. I was suicidal, taking care of S1 without any help from H, not eating, sleeping, or able to work. And yet I was still certain this was a temporary crisis and we would work everything out.

He reluctantly agreed to meet up to talk. He originally said Wednesday, then his mum called to confirm childminding for Thursday. I was confused and called H to double check. He morosely told me he had plans on Wednesday and and hung up.

He picked me up in the evening and drove us to a local park. I suggested we get fish and chips for dinner and he grumbled about it, saying he wanted to get this over with quickly. I did my best to act happy and unruffled. I told him I had seen a psychologist who had confirmed that I no longer needed treatment for postnatal depression or anxiety, and that despite the marital crisis, I was feeling much healthier. I said I had so much compassion for him, no anger, no judgement, and that I wanted to support him no matter what. He did not respond to any of this.

He commented how amazing it was to have the freedom to pick up and go camping on a whim, or stay overnight at a friend's house when the opportunity arose. I held my tongue thinking "the only reason you can do that is because I am taking care of our baby ON MY OWN every single night". Of course, 'friend's house' = 'OW's house', but in those early days I defended his honour to anyone who suggested there was someone else involved.

We got to the park and unfolded our package of food. I was the only one eating. He seemed put off watching me eat. The conversation went terribly, as you can expect. I felt blindsided all over again. I did my best to simply listen and validate, but ended up in tears. I said I couldn't change what had happened in the past, but asked for the opportunity to spend the rest of my life making it up to him. He became furious and insisted he take me home. I begged him to tell me what I had done wrong and he just drove in silence.

Eventually I sobbed "why do you hate me?" and he became so agitated he lost control of the car and narrowly avoided crashing us into a roundabout. He yelled at me to be quiet and said "this is why I can't talk to you!" When we got home we sat in the car for a few minutes so I could compose myself and he said "I don't hate you. I just don't love you." He repeated this several times, as though he was convincing himself. I asked again "why?" and he couldn't answer.

(It wasn't until I wrote him a letter taking ownership for my flaws and mistakes in the marriage that he began to craft his narrative of the controlling and manipulative wife. He turned my desperate insights and honest apologies into weapons, arming himself with reasons he had to leave me. Giving him that letter was probably my biggest mistake in this whole process.)

We went inside and his mum held me while I cried that he just didn't love me anymore. H sat down on the lounge with FIL in silence. MIL made me a cup of tea and we all sat down on the lounge watching a show about ambulance chasers. We sipped our tea in complete silence. FIL made a joke about something on the show. It was bizarre. There was no acknowledgement about this intense personal crisis that was going on. FIL did not say one word to H or me, just joked about this meaningless TV show. MIL asked H a couple of questions and he stared at the floor and ignored her.

Eventually H left and MIL gave me a hug and said to call her anytime. Once they left, I laid down on the cold tile floor and cried myself to sleep.


June 2019 | Runaway husband
May 2020 | Legal separation
Xmas 2020 | Divorce hearing