Am I proud of myself?

Over the last week I have been asked if I am proud of myself? This question was asked of me in a snotty way from toxic people that I should have exterminated a long time ago. So to answer that question.

YES I AM EXTREMELY PROUD OF MYSELF! I am proud I finally got the nerve to run away! I am proud that I want better for myself and my kids! I am proud I was able to finally say no to my abusive husband! I am proud I stood up for myself! I am proud of the Sheriffs office for doing their work well! I am proud of the woman I am becoming! I am proud of the Mom I am! I am proud I am back to the Mom I once was! I am proud I am going to do it all on my own with very little help! I am proud of the neighbors that had the courage to call the police! I am proud of my daughter for standing up to her Dad! I am proud of my kids for speaking their mind freely!

I am proud of so much! So ask me again! Am I proud of myself? Of freaking course I am. Are you? The family that sat there and listened to my husband beat the shit out of me in the laundry room. The family on April 15th of this year said to me and the kids we would always have a place to stay they just wanted my husband removed from the property. The family that stands up for an abusive addict who did nothing but destroy his family. The family that was so pissed at my husband for beating his uncle only a week before he beat me for the last time. Ask yourself if you are proud? Don’t even try to blame any of this on me.

I did not call the police. My husband is the one who reported me to the police and sent a text to me stating the police were looking for me. It was the police officers that arrived at my hotel room that night that saw the physical evidence. The investigator for the sheriffs office the following day made sure to arrest the correct person. So I am not the cop caller. I am a victim of domestic violence and I finally have had enough!

You want dinner? Okay, let me remember how.

I am at a point in recovery where I am facing the facts about everything in my marriage with the focus being the last 3 years. The last few years feel fraudulent and before the second D-Day I was at a point where I was the happiest I had been my entire life.  Everyday I am sick to my stomach.  My heart does not stop racing, it has now been racing for 7 months straight without a single break.  I am under constant attack from all the “feels” and I see no relief soon. My only option to get help would be to go to the emergency room and tell them I was suicidal which I am not.  Of course, I wake up everyday not wanting to live but I would never kill myself. 

The worse part about all of this, is the guilt I feel for not being a good mother or wife. My family is suffering.  I got asked the other day to make dinner.  I had to ask my family what I used to cook. I did not remember what I used to cook!  Thankfully my family remembers and filled me in. So, for right now my tiny goal is to make the family a dinner.  I am hoping to do stuffed cabbage.  Just thinking about it right now makes my heart race that much more.  It feels like a huge monumental task.  Making stuffed cabbage is my equivalent to an obese person that plans on summiting Mount Everest. I just hope it doesn’t take near as long as if I were to climb the mountain.

My family will never get the old me back. Infidelity is a traumatic event for the whole family.  There is a reason a home wrecker is a home wrecker.

Why is recovery so much worse this time?