...divine intervention. Had my internet not been wonky for most of Tuesday I probably would have posted a blog laced with rage and hatred. The day marked one week since I'd shed a tear. Until early evening when an argument with the buffoon had me alternately seeing red and sobbing.
Thankfully I yanked myself out of the quicksand of despair, drove down to Deb and Pete's and just hung out there for a few hours. Like I said, if I didn't have them to escape too I might be in a padded cell right now.
This is so hard. One minute I'm hell bent on doing whatever it takes to save my marriage and in the next I'm questioning why the hell I want to stay married to a man that I don't seem to know anymore. Then in the next minute I think of my kids and how it would crush them to see the family broken apart. Is it ever a good idea to "stay together for the kids"?? And what happens when they're all gone. Logan is only seven. We have another good eleven years to go with him. I am NOT living this way for eleven years.
Or does he think we'll wait until Logan is older, a teenager? At which point, maybe he thinks, the kids will cope with it all better? Neither scenario takes ME into consideration. So far this has been about what HE wants and what's good for the kids. I love my kids. I DO NOT want to do anything to hurt them or cause them undue stress. But I don't want to be miserable for years either.
In short... I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.