I'm leaving.

After hanging up with you I sat on the couch. I carved a reminder in my arm that says, "Leave him". I watched it bleed before he woke up and took me to bed telling me he loved me and was sorry he hurt me. I lay in bed for an hour thinking about how much it hurts before deciding suicide was the only option. That scared me. I woke him up and told him I needed help. I told him I wanted to die and was terrified I was going to kill myself. He complained about his semi-bruised face from where I’d hit him earlier, and then told me he was my help. That’s when I realized just how fucking lonely I am. The only person I actually have to talk to here, is the one person who keeps pushing me over the edge like this.

So I called my mom.

She's arranging a ticket for me out of here as soon as possible. Almost hysterical I told her I've absolutely had enough of this place and need to get the fuck out before I do hurt myself or someone else. I told her to wait, let me sell off the car and the flat and then I'll come home permanently. I weakly asked her about my son and she assured me I could come visit him yearly. Right now, I believe yearly is better than never again.

She doesn't want me to wait though. She tells me to fuck the car and the flat. Spend a few months back home. Clear my head. Then make a rational decision. I'm in no position to argue. That's what I'm doing, I guess.

I don't know what day I'm flying out. I don't know when I'll be back. I do know I'm going home to arrange a permanent life for myself there so that I can leave this God forsaken place once and for all.

Love you. I'll be in touch.

I'm Blessed

I’m blessed.

I have a four-year-old son. I am divorced. Though officially, I have custody of my baby, my ex husband and I share custody equally.

I’m blessed.

I never knew my biological father. My mother ran half across Canada to get away from him while I was just an infant. I met him for the first and last time when I was 13 years old.

I’m blessed.

When couple’s with children separate, the children suffer as well. In most cases, I honestly believe it’s best for the parents to find common ground and pull through for their babies. In some cases, I fully believe what my mother did was right.

When I met my father, I also met my half-brother and my father's new wife. She shivered and shook at any quick movement he made, almost embracing for the bash that was about to crack into her. She quivered when he spoke. I’m blessed because I was saved from a childhood of physical abuse from my father. I hope my half brother was saved the same way.

When I divorced my husband, he and I had already spent a year prior, setting a less than desirable example as a couple for my son. My ex was physically abusive, though not regularly. There is a clinical reason for his temper being as it was. He now, shows no signs of or desire to abuse, me nor my son and we get along just fine. I’m blessed because I’m able to insure my son will be raised with both his parents in his life, trying to set a positive example for him.

There are some cases, where the children simply aren’t as lucky as I figure both me and my son are. If you’re in one of those situations now deciding on your children’s fate, trust your gut. My mom did. I did. And believe until today, we’ve both made the best possible choices for our children.