I’ve had a good day and I’m even feeling ok about being alone tonight. I went into town earlier and I bought a few items. Crazy how just shopping can bring back nasty vile memories of the man I was insanely in love with.
Bin bags! Yes bin bags … I remember buying a cheaper brand and they weren’t very good. Despite explaining that he should put less rubbish in them, every single time he realised it was a crap bin bag I was blamed for buying cheap shit. Huffing and puffing and aggressive in nature whilst he spills rubbish all over the floor. Even if he wasn’t directly blaming me he sure as hell did a good job in indirectly making me feel like I had done something wrong yet again! Same with washing up gloves, they were thrown in the bin for being disgusting and he often told me I couldn’t wash up. I didn’t ever do it right. Then when the washing up built up he would scream out that clearly he’s the only one who ever washes up around here. Anything he could find to abuse me he would.
I also bought baby a pumpkin outfit for Halloween. It’s just a bit of fun. Last year I bought her a witch outfit, phoning her dad to tell him was never my intention to end in a row. I was screamed at for never listening to him and that his daughter can’t celebrate Halloween. He told me to get off his fucking phone and somehow the conversation developed into a slamming match regarding me not putting him on her birth certificate. A new mum excited about a little outfit I had bought ended in tears pain and anger. Everything that reminds me of him is literally poison. Any happy memory will also correlate with a bad one. Why did I put up with it so much??
I had a conversation with a graphic designer today, I am really excited about my book. I actually spoke to her about my situation without any tears. This is so positive. I am healing!