Coming home

Oh how I looked forward to coming home, to the man I loved and adored. I would be at work (described by others as a workaholic, I worked really hard at trying to achieve a work life balance) and I would get texts throughout the day from my lover. I couldn’t wait to get home to him.

Regardless of the passion I would feel during my working day, when I got home, it never was what I was looking forward to. The promises of hot sex diminished as soon as I settled down. By the time I unwound, he would be paralytic or the focus shifted to a drama of his own.

I used to hide my disappointment constantly. Sometimes, I was just tired and wanted to unwind beforehand.

I loved him so much. I fancied him so much. I wanted him so much…but it never materialised. I wanted to keep the honeymoon period. I wanted the sexy times. I wanted it all. He was tired. He was drunk.

I stopped going out with work folk as he was hard work. If I went out alone, he was hard work.

I wished he wouldn’t drink so much.

I wished he didn’t pick fights.

I wished he carried out what he said he would.

I wished he was the man he said he was.

He was depressed, he was tired…always he.

Damn, I still think he was my ideal but I know he wasn’t real. I didn’t make him up…it was all who he said he was, he just never was that. I hoped he would be. 



I unblocked the Imagineer today after 4 months. I am almost healed and now the absolute disgust I have for beginning to surface. The denial stage seems to be passing.

I recalled today the time when my daughter was being groomed online. I remember the night when the police and duty social worker called.

I also remember the following days where the Imagineer disappeared into his own cocoon. He was drinking but I hadn’t realised that. He left me to deal with this horrific event alone whilst he drank & passed out.

I felt guilty for triggering him, reminding him of his past.

He drank. It was an excuse for him to bow out and drink. There was no triggering just a complete lack of empathy and support.

I despise him for that.

Caramel week GBBO

Ah…the Imagineer loves caramel. He said he liked GBBO too. I wonder if he is watching it? 

Bollox…he is most likely in bed, pissed!

I don’t think anything he ever told me was true. I never realised (in the early days) that he would be drinking as soon as he got home. I never realised that he was plastered when he was chatting to me on messenger.

I am so very glad that he is no longer in my life. I think of him less than I did yesterday but I realise I think more about him than he does of me. He drinks to forget and now that includes me. Although, he is probably doing it to forget the lies he told and the pretend life he leads.

I saw John Lennon in a film and am so glad that I no longer get Beatles sings quoted & sung at me.

One day, I will get rid of his stuff. I’m not holding onto it because of sentimental value but because I cannot be arsed to go upstairs to tackle the rooms.

I will aim to get back into my own bed soon and start sleeping in it. Hopefully I will do that before I start university.

Doing a Masters is something I have wanted to do for a very long time. I thought the opportunity passed me by but now, I feel that my life is only beginning. 

It is ironic that I will be doing it in Law – inspired by dealings with the actor & the imagineer.  The sailor was the one who influenced me to do science. Law, is something I want to do. No one has had a hand in this decision, it is all mine and I am so excited by IT!

Should I contact the women who have been imagineered?

I have been mulling this over & over whilst in the garden today. 

Do I get in contact with the mother of his child & fiancee? I know she has since remarried quite recently. She was the victim of discard whilst he lined up his next love interest.

The replacement was a victim of sexual assault. He told me he used a belt and got out of hand. I wonder what her version is?

There was an unknown woman prior to him returning to the UK. His bff paid a visit as he was threatening suicide to his parents & parents were worried that he may go through with it.

Do I contact the woman after my discard? The one who saved him and made him happy again within two weeks of me leaving him because of his unbearable dangerous drunken antics & hospital staff advising me that I didn’t need that. She was oblivious to his nature as she was overseas however days before they were to be reunited with a bottle of celebratory baby oil, she called it off. I remember her discard whilst he was wooing me back. Do I contact her?

Do I contact the woman who is an Anglophile and wished that she was in the UK during the Scottish Referendum? I invited her over but got no reply on the list. Interestingly in his messenger, she inquired as to who I was. I was a bit surprised that the man that wants to marry me never mentioned me to her. She got blocked and there was no contact for a few years. Lo & behold, she became a friend again a few months prior to the break up. Do I contact her?

I have thought about it as I am writing a book (well, will be when the dark nights come in). A book about coercive control. Himself was never going to feature in it but the last few months, I have taken the glasses off and am seeing the relationship clearly for the first time. my counsellor yesterday and she admitted that she was wondering when it was going to end. I am looking forward to having a couple of booster sessions with her and will ask what she thinks about me contacting the women.

I dont want him to know I am writing this book. It will be anonymised, simply because none of them need any further attention. I don’t want any of them to play the injured victim. I am so tired of them twisting the truth and making a new version of their truth where they become the downtrodden victim

I absolutely hate the phenomenon that afflicts abusers…their ability to make it all about them.

I know not to take it personally, I get that they tries so hars to wear me down. I got run down by their constant demands but I am now in Control, it doesn’t work for them anymore.

I am also considering who will benefit from me writing this book. I fear for my safety in doing so, as I know that all of the characters will suffer from narcissistic injury and will pay all over their emotionally spurring rage against me. 

I want to.writw this book for women. I don’t ever want to be accused of slander and libel.

I also.want to make.sure rhat I am not indulging myself

I wish you the life you pretend to have

The penultimate text I sent the imagineer was thanking him for the delivery of dry dog food. I also said that I was willing to be his friend and something about not needing to pretend. I can’t remember the exact wording but it was meant sincerely. I was thrown by the response, ha, I shouldn’t have been as it was a typical arrogant, dismissive discard from the imagineer. He didn’t know or care what my opinion was of his pretend life. He didnt know what I was on about but he could assure me that he was fine. He was done and used my name in his text. He only does that when he is point scoring. I responded in kind using his name , expressing relief.

Since then, he has ignored two texts so I am most likely blocked.

He has tried to get bff back on side but she cba, although she has been keeping me informed. We had a very interesting exchange and a lot of back history has been filled in.

Essentially, without the Spanish Inquisition, a horrid selfishly cruel individual has been uncovered. If I had any emotions, I would be quite sickened. Instead, I am numb.

Maybe the truth about him is so horrific that I cannot process it at this time.

I dont feel hurt or angry but I have thought of nothing else for the last 36 hours.

I think about this blog, about my book, about the conversations with his family outing him. But I know that will not change a single thing.

I have the conversation on fb messenger so I will include it in another post.

In the meantime, I wish him the life he wants to live.

I wish that his lung cancer was real and the lumps were the size of golf balls.

I wish that he had been fucked in the arse by seven old men as a boy.

I wish that he was fucked by his grandfather and his carer.

I wish that he did have Lymes disease.

I wish he did have PTSD.

I wish he did have MS.

I wish he does succeed in killing himself.

No one who creates scenarios like this for attention seeking purposes deserves to live a life that includes other people.

I could love you

It has been just over 24hrs ago that I discovered that my recent alcoholic ex made several passes with the female friend he was staying with, whilst he was in ‘merica on a Christmas visit to his son. She locked her door when she went to bed that night.

I don’t feel anything, it has been on my mind but I have no emotional response.