Things are bad here. Really bad. I have hoped and prayed and cried for this to just be a blip, a bump in the road, but it’s not. I’m stuck. I’m in a bad situation that has grown out of my control.
My husband has disappeared into himself and has let the beast take over. Things are breaking. Hearts are broken. Money is spent without a care. We suffer. I suffer. I have been sick since it started again. Dizzy, nauseous, headaches, frowning.
I have pleaded, begged, and screamed for it to all stop. I have no money, I have no where. I have no one. The one who is supposed to love me has betrayed me, and become my enemy. If only he would peel the mask away, and become my love again. This time he wears it so tightly, I don’t know him. I don’t know the fat, red eyed, jerk who lies next to me at night, smelling of booze and snoring.
He should have it all, yet he lives like he has nothing. We are where he wants to be. He is doing what he wants to do. Yet the spiral runs deeper than ever. We are left with shadows and thorns.
No one will stand up to him for us. They leave us alone. None of their business. They let us wither and die under this tyranny. If I could drive away today, I would. I can start over again, right? Face those who say “I told you so” and “She is a walking problem”? Can I? Or do I just stay here and hope my husband, my love, will come in the front door, carrying the head of the beast and say “No more. I’ve killed him. Forever.”