Just when this year seemed that it couldn't get any worse for me (bank account getting cloned twice in 7 weeks, breaking my ankle on holiday, being confirmed as having sleep apnoea and having a C-PAP machine to keep me breathing overnight...) my hubby of what would be 17 years this month decides that he "can't do this any more" and said that he was leaving.
He said that he would stay until my ankle was healed and I was back at work and could drive and look after myself, and so tonight, Saturday 2nd June 2007, he took his toothbrush and left.
He's been ferrying stuff over to his brothers house for a few weeks now and I told myself that it wasn't happening. As long as he was still in the flat then I thought there would be a chance that he would change his mind. I even helped him move some of his stuff, helped him put new flat-pack furniture together etc., telling myself that the reason he was going to live with his brother was that it was closer to where he is now working, and that his brother's house needs work doing on it which he's going to help with etc. Anything to kid myself that this wasn't really happening.
I'm now faced with taking out an extra mortgate on top of the current one to pay him his share of our flat so I can stay in it, and with the additional money going out each month things are going to be pretty tight. I think I'll get to like baked beans on toast quite quickly, hey this could be a great new diet and in 6 months time I'll be able to model size zero bikini's with the best of them...
Ok so I joke, but thats to stop me just curling up in floods of tears. There are people on this group who have got it much worse than I have, and my heart goes out to them along with my prayers that things will get easier for us all. I guess you guys will understand if I'm not my usual chatty self for a while.
Suzie B