I found my american cell today under my nieces bed. I charged it and switched it on. There was a big part of me that just wished I had lost it forever. A bunch of texts from my fiancé who became my wife. A bunch of photos.

I read them all. 4 times. Over and over again. And I came to the realisation that she did love me. She loved me in the way she knew how to love. The love that when it becomes to real you self sabotage and lash out, and hurt yourself or others. The desperation in her texts broke my heart and left a canyon of emptiness in my stomach. She was begging me not to leave. I was keeping my boundaries. I had switched into social worker mode and I hadn't even realised it back then.

I knew the cycle of violence, I knew the cycle of borderline personality disorder, I knew the cycle of dysfunction, and I grew up with the cycle of narcissism. That typical I hate you fuck off, I love you please don't leave, It wont happen again I promise, I will change, and then the cycle starts all over again.

The suicidality I have been living with on a daily basis, due to the loss and grief and the deep wounds of the last little while is minimised on a scale of if I stayed. I know my mental health. I know my triggers. I know the pattern of both of us. I would have killed myself without a shadow of a doubt.

It was in that moment when I was reading back over those texts, that I wanted to hold her close to my naked chest. Let my warmth radiate into her. Press her head into my neck, stroke her hair and feel the heaving of her chest, and promise her everything was going to be ok. Like I had a hundred times before. My natural instinct to make it ok for everyone else - the path of martyrdom that I so easilyfall into.

I turned the phone off, and looked up at the rain falling like snow form the sky and said just loud enough for the wind to hear "You did enough, you where enough and you are ok" As i walked into the house to restock the fire, I whispered, Im sorry Jas, I loved you but I need to let you go x

45 year old's post secret,

12 year old child should have got it right.

Today I ran and the pain in my knees was excruciating. I kept running until I was out of breath and tears rolled down my cheeks. I remember how much I used to love to run. Pull on my shoes, lace them up and just go. The feeling of my lungs burning, my face on fire, my legs twitching, and the boom, boom, boom on the pavement with every contact. Pushing past the burning in my lungs, taking deep breaths and feeling so goddam free. Like I could run forever. Just keep going.

Whether I was happy, sad, angry, frustrated, feeling caged, wanting to punish myself - whatever emotion I LOVED TO RUN. Those days are over. With no cartilage left cushioning my bones, I can literally hear and feel the impact of bone on bone, and my knees ripping with pain. The best I can do is a fast walk, and i fucking hate walking. The cross trainer is good as far as impact goes, but its not the same as going for a run.

So on the cross trainer I realised I was scared. I was scared of immigration not letting me into the USA on the 28th September, scared that my green card won't arrive before then, scared that Jas would find out I was coming and call immigration, scared of working as a social worker again. I was such a fucking amazing social worker. Unorthodox possibly, as in not worrying about the environment I was in, but keeping true to my grass roots, keeping true to the principles of social work, embracing my political days in youth work, and giving 500% to the people I worked for. I wasn't a social worker to make friends with co workers, I was a social worker to make sure people with whom I worked got what they wanted. And I was so fucking good at it. Consultant Psychiatrists would ask for me specifically to work with complex and chronic cases. Cases that other workers couldn't get results with.

I was happy to break into a persons apartment at 2am in the morning because they had overdosed on a bad batch of heroin, perform CPR on them, call ambulance and hold them in my arms whilst they vomited over me and we waited for officers to arrive. Go home shower, go to bed and be back at work at 8am the next morning to do the same thing. I knew who I was. I liked who I was. And I felt normal in an environment of dysfunction.

I was petrified going back to that environment. My social worker bubble had burst. I doubted everything and started to question if I had actually lost it. If I was such a good social worker how the hell could I not have foreseen what was happening in my own life. I have worked intensively with mental health for 15 years. I have spent more time with people living with mental illness than I have with undiagnosed people. I fucking specialised in working with women with a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. I had exceptional working relationships with these women because of an understanding, experience, skills and boundaries. In a work place that capped BPD clients at 3 per worker because of the high burnout rate - I HAD 9.

And I never saw it coming. I saw the scars. I estimated they where eat least 15 years old. I know people recover and no longer act on impulses to self harm. That it might have been a small period of coping required to survive. I didn't see it fucking coming. I was played beautifully. I refused to social work myself. My relationship. The environment. I cried. I cried for my foolishness. I cried that I allowed myself to be played so well. I cried that I gave everything, again as I do, and got played. I cried that I lost a woman I thought I loved. I cried because I lost a father I so desperately wanted in my life, that stopped being my father 35 years ago. I cried because I lost my mother, a woman I would have died for over and over again. I cried because she chose him over me. I cried because it felt like even though I try to the right thing its just one loss, continually again and again.

I cried because I felt so alone, so useless, so scared. I cried because the woman I married, who is still legally my wife, has a boyfriend. I cried because I mattered so little to a person who I let see all of me. I cried because I wondered if this is how good life will get for me. If this is it. I cried for being so desperate for love and being wanted, that I feel so pathetic and worthless. I cried because he was probably right. And I cried because she couldn't love me....

In a matter of 8 weeks i have lost a wife, a mother, a father, a life.... these days turned out nothing like i had hoped

Today I am tired

Today I realised how tired I am.

tired of breathing

tired of placing those feet in front of the other

I've been so tired since 1982. Its exhausting and I just want to sleep.

Letter to Mum

To Mum,

Wednesday night you blamed me for everything that happened. A mother who allowed a man to abuse her child, traumatise a grandchild, you blamed me.

The night escalated when I said that Keaton should help Nardene out more at the cafe if he is getting a third of the profits. Clive went from agitated to aggressive in about 5 secs. HE stated “What would you know about business. Keaton is a successful business man who if it wasn’t for him Nardene wouldn't be where she is today”

It is at that point that I said I was leaving and got up to leave. Like a million times before, I had seen the switch that overcomes Clive and I knew he was getting ready to abuse anyone he could, this time directed at me. It was when I got up and left, that he smugly said “That's right get up and run away like you always do”. I said “Excuse me?” He again said “Run away like you always do”.

Instead of him recognising that he had started a heated conversation by belittling Nardene and telling her that without Keaton she wouldn't have anything, and I as acting as an adult seeing where this was going, got up and went to leave, Clive had to throw in a remark which he knew would agitate the situation. Instead of just closing his mouth, getting up and leaving.

So in response to his remark and jibe to me I turned around, sat down and looked at him and said “You are such a narcissistic asshole”. That is when his tirade of abuse started

“You fucking dumb, pathetic, lezzo cunt” That's what he started out with. He continued to abuse me in the most horrible of ways. He brought up that I called him a racist and sexist back in South Perth. He was racist that night. He called Aboriginal people boongs on a 60 minute show and I called him out on it. THAT IS RACIST. Clive is sexist. My whole life he has verbally abused the women in the family, put them down, and Wednesday nights onslaught of abuse showed that he has no regard for women, he believes he has every right to speak to them in the most vile ways because he is a male and feel he has a superiority over us. THAT IS SEXIST. Whilst he denied it Wednesday night, whilst continuing to call me a Fucking dumb lezzo cunt, he proved it very well his sexism.

He also went on to abuse your brother - “That fucking Poofter”. And yes I said to him that he has no right to call your family names and that they only tolerate him for you. You know why he doesn’t like Uncle Richard? Because Uncle Richard finally stood up to him and called him out about the control and abuse Clive has enacted to you, and your daughters for over 30 years. He spoke out as a loving brother about the way that Clive had treated you, was able to recollect incidences and give examples of his abusive behaviour. Clive raged about this letter. He raged because another male called him out on his behaviour and the abuse he saw his sister experiencing, and like any loving family member acted on it.

I saw the letter that Richard wrote – you shared it with me. I agreed about everything he said in the letter. YOU agreed with everything he said in that letter. You have to remember this was at a time where Clive was regularly abusing you, was an alcoholic, and regularly degraded others when he was drinking. He would push you, shove you, speak the vilest of words to you, and in front of other people, as Nardene brought up the other night – in the Barking Cow cafe calling you a Fucking Fat Cow. WHAT KIND OF PERSON SPEAKS TO ANOTHER PERSON LIKE THAT? WHAT KIND OF MAN SPEAKS TO HIS WIFE LIKE THAT? WHAT KIND OF A MAN SPEAKS TO A WOMAN LIKE THAT?

Richard isn’t the only person who has noticed the way Clive has treated you and Nardene and I. Many family members have noticed it and made comment. Even people in Bridgetown have made comment on Clive. Richard was the only brave one to say it. Most people tolerate Clive for you. Individuals don’t go to your home because of Clive.

Do you also know that family members have told me about being in our family home and seeing Clive yelling at us, as young as 6 years of age, and then slapping our faces so hard our heads should have spun. In front of other people. He did this to us?

Clive crossed the line when he yelled at Nardene that we should thank him for the $40,000 he put in a trust. Nardene had no idea what he was talking about, and actually asked “What $40,000?” HE continued to yell “You owe me” Nardene looked at me and said “what $40,000” I said “I don’t know” to which Clive replied “I was the one who put your fathers money into a trust, I could have spent it and used it but I didn’t, you owe me!”

So let me get this right. Clive wants a thank you, for not taking the money off a dead mans children, that he had absolutely no right too. His threat they he could have spent OUR FATHERS DEATH MONEY and we owed him a thank you for not stealing it?? Are you serious?

And we also owe him a thank you for going out and driving buses, and buying food with HIS money to feed us? We need to thank him for doing this? As a an adult, who made the choice to become involved in a relationship with a single mother, with 2 children, who continued to stay in the relationship and therefore continued to make the choice, we have to thank him for doing what he legally, ethically and morally needed to do? By starting a relationship with a single mother with 2 children?

Clive taught us from a young age that children should be seen and not heard. That children should only speak when spoken too. He taught us that what we wanted and needed didn’t matter,that his needs and wants where always more important. He taught us that men needed to be respected and that they could do what they wanted and never have to apologise for their behaviour. He taught us that we are not important, we are worthless and we do not matter. He continues to do this at 72 years of age

You taught us from a young age that children should be seen and not heard. That children should only speak when spoken too. You taught us that our needs and wants do not matter. You taught us that men can abuse us and that we have to apologise for the abuse we received. You taught us that under any circumstances that we have to apolgise for others abuse and cruelty, forcing us to go and apolgise to smooth things over and make Clive feel better. You would even say to us as children, I know what he did and said was wrong, to just go and apologise so there are no hard feelings. We would cry and say we didn’t do anything, he should apologise, but you forced us to go and do it. Apologise to a man who just abused us. You taught your daughters to be worthless, powerless and meaningless.

One of your daughters left home at 15. One of your daughters started to try killing herself at 12 and again and again. You tell me, why would your daughters do this? Why would a 12 year old sit in a cupboard with a gun in her mouth, loading and reloading a rifle trying to blow her brains out? Why? This is not normal and it is not right.

You continue to say that you are a proud mother lion who would protect her children and kill anyone who hurt them. Well you didn’t. You allowed yourself and Clive to hurt us from a young age. You have shaped us in to the women we are today. You continue to protect a man who abuses us, you don’t not keep us safe and you never protected us.

Yes I threatened to punch you, after you hit me repeatedly and refused to allow me to go into the bathroom and see Opal who was petrified and crying. I will apologise for threatening that, because that was wrong. That is the ONLY thing I will apologise for that night.

You continually blame me for nothing I did. You continue your pattern that you trained us in from a young age. You are saying that telling Clive he is a narcissistic asshole, I deserved the abuse that followed? EVERYTHING I said that night is true. EVERYTHING. Clive got angry because he didn’t want to hear it. Just like when Richard told him some truths.

You said that you think we are jealous of Keaton. Jealous of our own brother? I am not jealous in the slightest of Keaton. I never have been and never will be. I am dead proud of my brother and what he has achieved. As I did on Wednesday night, and EVERYTIME it is brought up he is a very smart and successful businessman. I do not deny him ANY of his success or his ability to lead a good, healthy, balanced life. Don't ever tell me what I think about my brother. You do not have ANY idea my thoughts, my feelings or my intentions.

I want you also to reflect on what you think the O'Sullivans would think if I was to tell them what Clive said Wednesday night. That we owed him a thank you for not spending Terry's money that he had no right too. Honestly have a think what any one of them would think and say. Also have a think about what Dad would have thought, looking down at the way Clive threatened and abused us, and demanded thank you’s for not taking money of children.

Clive divorced me and said I was dead to the family. He didn't divorce me, he stopped being my step father when I was 26 years old and he abused me in that hotel room in South Perth. That same incident where I didn't speak to him for 6 months and you forced me to apologise to bring the family back together – to this day HE has never apologised for the vile things he spewed that night. Why should I have expected anything different, he has and never will take ownership of his behaviour.

Is he going to apologise to Opal in person? Is he going to be adult enough to apologise for the trauma he caused her? To actually apologise for the language he used? To explain that no-one should ever speak to another person like that. That no man should EVER speak to a woman like that. That no father should EVER speak to a daughter or son like that. Is he going to take responsibility for his actions and teach her that he was very wrong to do that, or is he going to do nothing so she learns that men can do that to people, daughters, anyone they like and take no responsibility for their behaviour.

She heard everything he said. EVERYTHING. She is scared and traumatised. I despise him for doing that to her.

I am more than happy to be divorced from him. It actually sets me free. I do not have to pretend anymore, I no longer have to tolerate him for you. He is not my father and never was. He is Clive. I am happy to never see him again as long as I live, and I choose to never see him again. I am happy to see you and act cordially, and I love you as a person, but I have no respect anymore for you as a mother or a protector. You never did protect us, and you stood by whilst he abused us. I will never forgive you for that.

Nardene will let you know if anything happens to me in America. 

Goodbye Mum.

Divorced

You fucking lezzo,pathetic,dumb cunt. 

You delusional fucking cunt

Look at your fucking pathetic personal life that has always been pathetic.

Rewind 20 years. Same venom. But a few more.

You dumb fucking bitch. You think you are so smart because of your fucking degree, I know hundreds of women who are fucking smarter than you. You are fucking nothing.

Rewind 14 years.

12 year old sitting in her parents walk in clothes robe. The feeling of the softest white shag carpet under her feet. She remembers how soft it is and how white it is. And how much of a mess it will make. Sitting on the stool that her parents use every day to put on their shoes. Leaning back in the clothes so her upper body is disguised. The taste of cold metal in her mouth and the full awareness that this is truly the end, there is no coming back. The taste of metal that is still present in her mouth, everyday, 33 years later. Balancing the barrel in between her teeth and resting it on her tongue she uses the big toe of her right foot to step on the trigger.

She closes her eyes and presses down.

Nothing. She presses down again. Nothing. She comes out of the clothes, takes the bullet out, places it ever so carefully back into the box, sitting on the 2nd shelf from the top, and pulls another one out.

Reloads the rifle, sits back on the stool, covers her upper body with the clothes hanging on her fathers side, and again presses her big toe on the trigger. Nothing.

Snot runs down into her mouth, tears falling down her cheeks, and the voice in her head telling her she is fucking useless that she cant even do this right.

She packs everything back up with meticulous detail, so no-one will know she has ever been there. She rubs the pile on the carpet the way it was when she first walked in, so no footprints show. She walks back to her bedroom punching herself in the head, telling herself she is fucking useless, closes the door. Walks over to the wardrobe and continues smashing her head against it.

The man who is with my mother is not someone who I will ever call father. He isn't. He was a young man, middle aged man, and now 72 year old man who continues to spew his insults, demean and degrade, and violate the person standing in front of him who is legally his step daughter. He is a horrendous, narcisstic, asshole who gets great pleasure and power by belittling and abusing the women around him.

I am 45, my sister is 47. He came into our lives after my real father was killed. He is the only "father" we have known for 42 years. He has been controlling, verbally, and emotionally abusive for as long as I can remember. My sister moved out at 15 years of age because she could no longer tolerate him and his ways. I first tried to kill myself at 12 years of age, because of the way he treated me, and because I honestly believed death would be a happier place. I tried again at 15, and again failed. I moved out the day I turned 16.5.

What started out as a family dinner for my nieces 11th birthday at their house, to a discussion about my brother having more physical input into the cafe for the third of a percentage of profit he takes, spiralled viciously out of control.

He yelled these words in front of an 11 year old child. Who went to the bathroom and was heaving and sobbing. He demanded a thankyou for the $40,000 HE put into a trust for my sister. HE demanded a thankyou that he did this and didn't ask for any of it or spend it.
This was the money that the WA Police Force set aside for my sister and I as compensation for our father being killed. HE wanted us to thank him for not spending the money, of a dead mans children, that where not his.

HE wanted us to thank him for going out and driving a bus everyday, and buying food with his money, and putting food on the table for us to eat. We owed HIM a thankyou.

His last words where - "You fucking cunt you are divorced from me from this day. You are nothing"

I thanked him and said Good. You will die a very lonely old man. You are already dead to me,and you where never my father.

Today I cried an ocean. I cried an ocean for the little Corrine inside who broke a little bit more. The little Corrine who knew those words all too well from the man she called Dad.

The adult Corrine didn't cry for herself. She stopped loving him 20 odd years ago. She tolerated him for her mothers sake. He was a horrendous, narcissistic, abusive asshole. He still is. And the next tears I will cry for him, will be tears of joy at his funeral.

FUCK YOU AND YOUR BITCH

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever get my life together. What is it I'm looking for? Why can't I stop behaviour that is so destructive to me? Do I enjoy the pain it brings, and that is why I still do it? Why do I overthink EVERYTYHING, analyse movements, words, lack of words, silence, noise.

My life seems to be an unanswerable question of "Am I doing the right thing?".

Ever since I can remember its being a constant running away or too something, not knowing the outcome but doing it anyway. Not being able to sit still. Not being able to trust. Not being able to share. A continuous cycle, that it may appear, I never learn from.

Once again I question my decision, and the only answer I have is: this could be the worst decision of my life.

Today I really fucking hate her. Today I feel sorry for myself. Today I am rageful at myself. Today I have had efuckingnough with everyone and everything. Today I feel caged.

Today

There are definitely two sides to me. One which smiles, cracks jokes, says everything is fine and mostly believes it.

Then there is the times when i struggle to be in a room with people, finishing work and feeling so drained and empty and needing to be b on my own and not talk or listen.
Sad and reflective on the marriage that is no more. Remembering the good times filled with love, laughs, passion, dreams. Angry that it was so quickly lost. Angry that my dreams have been cut short. Angry that i have to adult and do the right thing.

Looking at photos on my phone and not ready to delete them. So many memories, so many good times. My heart starts to ache and long for the wife i left on the other side of the world.

And as soon as my heart feels that, my eyes fill with tears at the Jekyll and Hyde aspect of our relationship. The words, the hurt, the threats, the lack of intimacy or physical connection. And the intense sadness that I never got to lay next to my wife or kiss her for the last time.

The last 2 years have felt like a horrible, cruel joke today.

Not waving, drowning

I only ever wanted to be part of your family - you and your daughter. Leaving everything in Australia and coming over here to marry you I wanted to create my new family with you both. You where all I had. I made the choice to leave home, because you where all I wanted, you where my new life, my new home, my new family.

I wish you had let me be part of that family.I wish that you had let me be involved with handling the conflicts we had as a family from when I arrived in February. I continually asked you that I wanted to be involved and how it would make me feel to be involved. I still don't understand why I was kept away from that. I wrote you a letter

 telling you what I needed and wanted. The things I mentioned where the only way I saw us in moving forward. We didn't even talk about this. You didn't even tell me if what I suggested was plausible, or offer alternatives. 

I came back even though I said if we didn't make those changes, I wouldn't. I came back because I loved you, that I still wanted us. We still didn't talk. And whenever we did it just seem to end in arguments. We where so bad at communicating, neither of us feeling heard or understood. We never prioritised that. We didn't prioritise our relationship, our marriage, each other. For me it was the only thing that was important - I had nothing else. No job, no idea if I would get a visa and no idea about the future. I needed for us to work and prioritise our relationship to give me hope.

 We didn't, and the cycle that we probably both felt, continued. I was at the stage where there was nothing else I could do. I had nothing else to give. I had already given and given up everything. How many times do we tell each other we aren't being understood, heard and respected?

 My goal in life was to grow old with you, start my new life with you and your child in Houston. I will fly home with nothing, a completely destroyed heart, and a pain that will take so very long to diminish. I will have to start again, but I will never be the same. A huge part of me died when I left on Saturday. And that will never regrow.

 Find the person who can compliment you. Find the person who understands you and adores you and loves you. I am sorry my love was not enough for you. I wish you all the best for whatever your future holds, and I wish you nothing negative. I need to navigate my path ahead, and how to survive when I am feeling like I am drowning.

The Closure

When I first met you we where both happy and it was a wild and crazy adventure. You where in a job you loved, you where playing derby, life for you was good. We where getting to know each other and there was nothing that came up that made us shy away from each other.

When I came over for the first 3 months we fought. And yes some of it was about your daughter. I told you all the way back then I wanted us to be a family. I made it clear what I wanted. I suppose you made it clear where you stood. I hoped that would change.

We applied for a visa to get married, I had quit my job and rented my house out. When I left I slept on peoples couches, lived with my sister, helping her out with some issues she was facing.

I paid for ALL of the visa. I didn’t have any money coming in. Not 1 cent. But I sold things, and paid for the next processes as they came along. You where still working full time. You didn’t once send me money for these processes.

I came back for 3 months and again I told you when I came I didn’t have any money and couldn’t afford it. I gave up a job that could have seen me save $10,000 for us, but you said you missed me too much and we agreed I would come back. I spent $7000 on my credit card that time I was here. Even when I didn’t have 1 cent to my name, and told you that I had no money. I didn’t buy anything nice for myself, no clothes, no shoes. I put money towards living in Houston.

I went home in serious debt, and had no idea how I would pay it of. So I started selling everything I could. I found a new home for my dogs, sold my car, everything. I had to go to Sydney for the final interview. I told you I had no money, but still I paid for an airflight, a hotel room and the visa.

You didn’t even call me after the interview. The interview that would see US being together and getting married. I called you but you where busy working you couldn’t talk. You didn’t make time for us to enjoy this moment together. You promised me when your tax came through you would put the $1200 towards it. It would be through the end of January.

I contacted you when our package arrived from Sydney. I tried messenging you and you didn’t reply. I tried calling and you didn’t answer. And when I finally got through you said you had seen it on facebook and didn’t understand what the big deal was. DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCKING BIG DEAL WAS?????

That 4 months we where apart was terrible – we fought so much, we lost connections. I kept asking you about your tax money. You kept saying it hadn’t come through. Between telling me to never come back, and then begging me to come back, I decided that if I didn’t fly out to see you soon the relationship would be over. It was already seriously crumbling.

You where going out most nights getting heavily intoxicated, calling me saying you had got in to fights, covered in cuts and bruises, not knowing where you where. Putting photos up on social media drapped over people and not wearing your ring.  You said you had hives. I didn’t believe you because when I first gave you that ring, October 2014, you still suffered with hives and you never not wore it because of that. January 2016 suddenly you couldn’t wear it? It was an excuse I never believed, but I let it go.

You told me just after we put our original papers in February 2015 that you would buy  me an engagement ring, I said I wanted a cheap simple silver one. I only got that ring end of April 2016. And it was a simple silver one. But 14 months later??

So I fly over to surprise you. Yes I shouldn’t have done that, I know now. But the first words you said to me was “what the fuck are you doing here”. I said to myself before I left Perth, my life, my family, my friends, my whole existence, that if you weren’t happy to see me the night I arrived I would have my answer as to whether I would marry you and stay.

In my head it screamed leave, over the noise of my heart breaking at your response. I stayed. Within a week I was told you had slept with him. And the debarcle and web of deceit and lies really begun. I also continued to ask you about the tax money – and you kept saying you had no idea where it was and you where following it up.

4 months later it turns out that we have had police called to the property – yes that was my fault because of my loud outburst, WE have been investigated by CPS, your daughter, him and other people have confirmed you have had sex with a man when I was in Australia. Your tax money went into your account 11th February. You continually tell me that it hasn’t and you don’t know where it is. You spent the money I raised for our new plot of paperwork, that was to go towards fees for getting my degree recognized so I could work as a social worker. You promised me you wouldn’t spend it. When I asked you about it you casually said you had to spend it because you had to pay for rent and food.

NOT ONCE did you sit me down and have a conversation about being broke and that you would need to use some of that money. NOT ONCE did you think it was a good idea, but you decided to break your promise and do as you wish.

I went to San Antonio and things went ok for a little while when I returned but quickly went back to how they where. Toxic and dysfunctional. I told you what I wanted and needed. You told me how it was going to be. I asked you to change, you told me this is how it was.

So I book into therapy to work out how I can be part of your family with all of the lies, deciept, lack of trust, manipulation and games. I left again because life in the house was horrible, and I was pet sitting, and thought it would be good to have some breathing space. In the middle of an investigation, and it was horrible to live at your house when you refused to listen the impact it was having on me. It had nothing it do with me you said. So again I left for 3 weeks. Yes you said I could come home but nothing was going to change. So I had to lump it and bear it.

My wife allows me to move out, knowing I have NO MONEY, KNOWING THE IMPACT OF ALL THIS IS HAVING ON ME, and all she can say when I write her letter of what I think needs to happen for us to salvage this relationship – all you say is Its too late your daughter and you have spoke everything is great between you two, Lance says not to go over it, so if you want to come back come back.

You trusted a complete stranger who you have known for 2 minutes, who gives you advice, than YOUR WIFE who is telling you the impact this has had on her and begs you to have a conversation, which you refuse! You refuse my feelings, you refuse to respect me or us, and refuse to even acknowledge anything about me.

So let me get this straight. I gave up my whole life, family, friends, my dogs, my home, my job, my existence. Pay for the whole visa process $4,000 whilst being unemployed and sleeping on couches. Allow my sister to pay off my debts that I had incurred to do this because my  FIANCE could not give me 1 cent, and I was about to relapse back into hospital.

Come back to find out my wife to be has cheated on me and refuses to acknowledge and be honest with me, even though I repeatedly begged her, and the man she fucked admitted it and her daughter walked in and saw you in the action of being fucked.

You continue to LIE about the tax money that you where supposed to give me, $1200 towards the visa, so I could give it back to my brother who loaned me the airfare money. I promised him, because you promised me you would give it to me, that when she owes me the money for the visa I can repay you. You have spent the money. I know this, its gone – and instead of you being honest about it, having a conversation with me about it – you continue to lie.

I went to therapy to try and change to fit into your life and make it easier for everyone, particularly your daughter, and I have asked and begged you to make changes in that letter I wrote, and you haven’t done ANYTHING.

And now that I have made the decision that I value myself, I value my worth, my feelings, my health and have said enough is enough, I can no longer try and give, give, give I am supposed to believe and trust that things will be different? Im sorry but the trust and belief is gone. I no longer have it.

You say you love me, but what I have described and experienced is not love. It may be love to you, and this is maybe how your relationships are. But it is not love to me and I will not stay in a relationship where this is the bench mark and warped view of what love is. You say that we are married and I cant leave.

Well I am leaving. I am going home to be surrounded by love and to heal, and try and work out where all these broken pieces of myself are so I can slowly start putting them back together.

I gave you over 2 years. I gave you absolutely everything of me, financially, physically, emotionally and mentally. I am beaten, and I am done.

If you really mean what you say in your texts, then put it into action. Start making the changes. Start being honest with yourself first. If you really want this then work towards getting what it is that you want. I sacrificed EVERYTHING for you.

Now its your turn. We will still be married. I am leaving for Australia. But until you can give me what it is that I need in a relationship and marriage, then its over. I don’t want you or us like this. But who knows what the future brings, and maybe this will push you to make the changes you  desperately need if you want to be in a relationship with someone like me.

5 years that turned into 5 months

Sunday 26th June, 2016 was the Pride Parade in Houston. The plan was to go to the parade and march with NOW chapter Houston. By 11.30am my bags had been packed for me, put out on the driveway and I was told to leave. I had messaged some friends to see if they could come and get me. I was told they couldn't enter the house or the police would be called.

I dragged those 4 suitcases up to the end of the driveway, waited on the side of the road for that familiar car to turn the corner and pull in. It was probably 100f by this time, and I couldn't breath from the congested snot in my sinuses and the flood of tears falling down my face. I looked like a fucking mess, and the neighbours closed their blinds as they watched my shoulders rising and lowering and the muffled wails coming from where I was sitting.

Their car pulled up and Big Mumma jumped out, came around to the back of the car and wrapped me in her arms. I collapsed and sobbed, and all she kept saying is "it's ok, it's ok". For the first time in weeks I felt loved and safe.

My life as I had planned it was over and my heart, soul, spirit and whole being felt crushed beyond repair. 45 years old, broke, unemployed, homeless and my mental health on the verge of relapse. All I wanted was to get on the next plane home to where I could fall apart quietly.

Once again I was sleeping on couches, dragging my 4 suitcases around, interrupting people's lives with my own shit. I felt like an invasion, a wart on the end of their nose, always there and interrupting the clear view. But I talked, cried and whined and they listened. Never once making feel like a burden, but embracing me and my wounds into their home and giving me the space I desperately needed.

I made the decision to stay more than 3 more days in the USA. And the airfares where also going to send me into more debt. 3 more weeks to go home with a broken heart, but to try and fill it as much as possible so the fall would be cushioned. They had fast become my Houston family over the last 2 years and I wasn't ready to let them go just yet when I had already lost everything else.

I have only once in my life felt the unconditional love of friends, and that was 11 years before when my mind had finally snapped and friends involuntary admitted me into a psych hospital. That time 3 friends literally saved my life.

I was about to experience this again, from in the scheme of things, relative strangers who showedme more human connection that I could of ever thought possible. They opened their lives, their house's, their cars, their wallets, their fridge, their bars, their hearts and their arms And they began to build me up and feel so incredibly loved, humbled and thankful.

They made me laugh, cry, drink, eat, laugh a lot more, hug me when I didn't feel worthy, bring me into their families and crept quietly into my heart and build a family I could call my own, and home. Texans I could have to say, are the most incredible and magnificent my genuine and self-less people I have ever met. 

I fell in love all over again, and my soul is completely images with these incredible people.

You where the highlight of my trip and my most beautiful memory xx

My Punchy Mcpunchy who let me touch her when she doesn't want to be touched

My Mama bear who when I grow up I want to be just like her...smart,kind,beautiful, humble, passionate and zen

My 2 favorite people EVER

There are not words I can think of that explains the love I have for my wingman. She is exceptionally magnificent

30th May 2016

Leaving wasn’t an easy decision to do. To be honest my heart is beyond broken, it is shattered. There have been too many significant things that have happened since I arrived that have built a platform for our current situation.

Trust has been lost, and I will own that. You want me to believe you but I cannot. There is too much that is pointing in the opposite way. His confession confirmed it, he has nothing to lose or gain by telling me. On the other hand you have a wife to lose. As I have always said it isn’t the act that has concerned me, but my perception of the inability to be honest. However you have said you are being honest. That is something we just wont agree on.

My perception of your lack of concern, understanding and empathy regarding many situations that have impacted on me. And in particularly the CPS investigation currently and the serious impact on my life. You say you understand but your actions and behavior continually say something else. This isn’t new, we have spoken about this for a long time now, and regardless of how I tell you it impacts on me, nothing changes.

My take on it is that you are doing the best you can. The behavior you have developed over your whole life in order to survive, all impact on the way you view the world, relate to others, see yourself and live your everyday existence. I totally get it and it is understandable.

I honestly believe you are not at a stage to acknowledge the impact this has had on your life. I have tried since August 2014 to encourage you to see a therapist for support. Or maybe it was before that, I don’t remember. Since I have been here, within the first 6 weeks you cut your self significantly. I have returned home twice to see you so inebriated, on the bed, or in the bathroom, covered in blood, and the sheets covered in blood and you pulling your wounds open wider. I have cleaned them up, used steri strips to close the wounds, changed the sheets and put you to bed because you have refused to go to a doctor to get stitched up. Even after those incidents we haven’t sat down after to discuss what happened and how it affected both of us. Your pain and my pain at seeing the woman I love carve herself up. 

Cutting is your coping strategy to feel. I get it. But it is not a healthy way of coping. It is not something you can continue. It is something you need help with, and you need support in understanding what caused you to cut. You need to learn positive coping skills and build your emotional maturity. Pulling your hair is also self-harm, and even though you haven’t done it for ages, you venomly deny this is self-harm. You denying this as an act of self-harm is your choice. It is self-harm whether you admit it or not. Which I can only interrupt as where you are at your willingness to make positive changes around that behavior.

I have said a few times over the last 8 months that there has been domestic violence in our relationship. You laugh and disagree. You have told me that you don’t hit me, and I have told you that domestic violence is not just physical abuse.

As I’ve repeatedly said domestic violence can be physical, emotional, psychological, financial, or sexual. Emotional abuse involves the destruction of a person’s self-worth, and is brought about by persistent insult, humiliation, or criticism. I have told you a few times since I have been here that I am a shell of my former self. Many of our fights from the start have been about Serena. In those times, and most recently, you have insulted me and my sensitivity – so much so that many times when I have asked you a question your first response is an exasperated “What now” “You are always so negative” “I cant even go without a day without you bringing something up negative” Your blocking of our conversation, whether over messages or face to face has been consistent for

about a year. You have aggressively told me that I do not know anything, that I have absolutely no right to say anything about Serena and how you parent her as I have never been a parent and therefore I cannot make comment. I have told you how much that has hurt me, especially when I went through IVF for 3 years and desperately wanted children. But you continually say that even when I have told you how much it hurts for you to say those things. You have told me that I would have to be the worst social worker you have ever meant, and that the way I respond to you and Serena proves how bad I am at my job, and you don’t know how I could ever have got a job, and that’s why I had to leave my hospital job in Australia. I have responded badly in fights to you and Serena, and yes I will own that. But attacking me personally and professionally was beyond anything I have said to you, and what I deserved.

Whenever I have had any involvement with your child or how I do things you have persistently criticized me and put me down. This has been emphasized in the current situation. Another example is your shutting down to communication by repeated statements of “it’s your choice, I have no control over you” etc etc. You generally say this after an argument where you have acted out aggressively, hurt me with your words and then stop communicating by saying it’s my decision. You are unable to reflect, have insight, about your behavior and how it inadvertley pushed me to a point where I have no choice. Because you don’t have this insight, saying Well its your choice, is manipulative, lacking responsibility and reverting back to a child so you can say in your own head “Well I didn’t do anything wrong. I talked to her like she wanted, but she didn’t like what I said, so it’s her choice” A complete lack of responsibility for your part is ongoingly significant and emotionally abusive.

Psychological abuse is also linked in with emotional abuse and includes preventing me from talking to other people and requiring permission from you to do this. 

A good example is from the beginning of when I got here and I was told you where having sex with him. Also when your daughter called 911 and accused us both of physical abuse. I wanted to deal with it in a proactive way and speak with her to find out why she would come up with these stories. I also wanted to talk with your Mum when she came to get your daughter and tell her what was going on so she was able to hear another side to the story. I also wanted to talk with him about what went on. All of those times you refused to allow me to do that, even though I told you how all of these situation involved me and had a huge impact on me, you refused to allow me to work it out in a way that was respectful to myself and my healing. You told me you would handle it, and I had no right to say anything. Your way of handling it has led to CPS being involved, and my desires to sort conflict out, to be continually ignored and minimized.

I also feel you have been financially controlling since I have returned. A prime example is the lack of financial contribution to the whole visa process. The money you owe for that which has been passively followed up since I have asked about it in January, and your annoyance that I ask and your response is there is nothing you can do. You have not been open and honest regarding this, and therefore I take it into my own hands to find out some more. 

 Because I have no access to money and I am completely dependant on you and at your mercy of what you will provide.

Since I left to go to San Antonio, you lost some people in your life, but I gained some friends and support. Ever since then you have 90% of the time made digs about me spending time with them, you have made it extremely uncomfortable for me to have my own space and spend time with them without feeling immense guilt and extremely uncomfortable. It has even been in those times where I have come home and you have been intoxicated and have had self harmed whilst I was out. That is extremely manipulative and controlling behavior to do in response to me going out for a couple of hours to have some space. You use it as a punishment and a guilt trip for leaving the house. You wont see it as this, but it is exactly what it is. Your response to me going out and spending time with other people, has made it so uncomfortable for me to enjoy, the emotional blackmail about not wanting to spend time with you, literally just makes me want to spend less and less time around you.

Even though you wont see any of this abusive, and will believe that I am once again over reacting, and that I continually tell you how bad you are and how I only ever bring out the negative things that you do, and I cannot name any positive things about you in the last 3 months, this just highlights again to me your inability to have insight into the last 3 months from anyone else’s perspective but your own. If you where able to wholly look back at the last 3 months through my eyes, you would see clearly that there isn’t much positive that has happened. I used to think that maybe I was going crazy and maybe I was seeing it all wrong. 

However too many people who have known you, or only met you once, when we have gone out as a couple, have noticed and commented regularly on the way you have spoken to me, how you have interacted, and how you have behaved. I know now that I am not going crazy because I am not the only one.

Yes I left today, because I needed space. I needed to protect myself physically, emotionally and mentally. I am taking responsibility for my future and finally have made the decision to put that first. It has been suggested from a legal perspective this is the best option for me at the moment. To remove myself from the family home, but to be still be involved with the CPS investigation. As I said a few days ago I do not think or expect things to change over night. I think it will take years for changes to happen, and for you to be in a more positive, mature and positive controlling space in your life. 

You are the only one that can make the changes if you want a different outcome. I cannot do that for you, no one can. You need to take responsibility for your life in every aspect. It is time to deal with your past, learn new ways of coping, forgive yourself, love yourself and live the life you want and deserve.

I can support you in that process. I can take responsibility for my part in everything I have done, how I interact with you and how I be your wife. I am willing to do that. However you need to decide if you are ready to do that. I cannot go back and live like we are. I deserve more than that, I deserve to be happy, and I deserve to be loved in a caring and respectful way. I will not settle for any less than that. If this is to be my goodbye letter, I leave knowing I have said what I need to. And I say this because I love you and deeply care for you and where your life leads. The outcome is soley your choice, its up to you now