A crying day

I'm having a bit of a crying day today. Except, no actual tears are allowed to run down my face because I have to keep it together for my boys.

The soon-to-be-ex injured himself at football yesterday. I woke at 4 this morning to hear my car leaving the driveway. My first thought was that my car was being pinched, then I wandered to the lounge room (where he sleeps) to find a note saying he's taking himself to the hospital. Another tiny little stab through the heart. Because, as his wife, that's meant to be my job. I'm meant to take care of him when he's sick and vice versa. But it's incidents like this that remind me every day that he doesn't want me to be his wife anymore. He doesn't want to build a life with me, he doesn't want to live with me. In short, he just doesn't want me.

And so the tears have been very close to the surface all day today. And the anger. More accurately, the rage. I am so angry at him for backing out of what I thought was a contract for life. For better or worse he told me. Richer or poorer (we've certainly got the poorer part covered). He promised me he'd give 100%. That he'd stick with me no matter what. Him and me against the world. And instead, he's bailing. The ship has hit rocky ground, it''s fixable, but instead of working on it and making it once again not only functional but a thing of beauty and joy, he wants to get into a lifeboat and row into the sunset. Without me.

I snapped at my middle son this evening, it was a teeny bit deserved but largely an over-reaction from me. He asked me, "why are you so angry mum?" and I wanted to scream at him, "because your father is LEAVING US!!! That fucking c*** over there doesn't WANT US and he's FUCKING OFF to be a bachelor and leaving me with the shit and the tears and the vomit and the fevers, the tantrums and the arguments and all the endless, endless work of being a parent and he doesn't give a SHIT about what he's doing to us." But instead, all I said was "Sorry sweetheart, I'm tired and stressed," as I pushed down a thousand tears. Because if they started, I wouldn't be able to stop.

I was watching the Logies tonight (Australian version of the Emmys), and during the In Memorium section a name popped up that I knew. Years ago I had worked for an advertising agency, and one of the animators that we had frequently used back then had passed away, and was being honoured in Australian TV's "night of nights." And as he was in the same room, I mentioned my surprise and shock to my soon-to-be-ex. And then I realised, that despite the fact that he was four metres from me, I was yet again talking to an empty room. There were people "talking" (literally: typing) with him in the chat box of the game he's obsessed with, so as he's been for the last 3 years, he was oblivious to anything I said. I don't think he even heard me. So even though, for economic reasons, we are currently under the same roof, emotionally, spiritually and relationally I am alone. And it's so frightening.

I am 40 next year. I have 3 kids who I adore, but honestly they're a handful. They aren't Brady Bunch kids. I love them to pieces but they backchat, to be honest they're lazy because I just have no idea how to make them do chores, and the little one is so OCD it drives me fucking mental most days. Who would want that package? Maybe that's why my husband's leaving me. It's just not a very attractive proposition. There are days when, if I could bail out of my life, I probably would. But I'm the mum. I just don't have that option. I'm not the one that gets to do the leaving, I'm just the one that gets left.