Well, a lot has happened since I last logged in.  In june 2008 my husband decided he wanted to seperate, and my son and I drove from FL to upstate NY and I have been living here ever since.  I have a small handful of friends who are great, and my son has really blossomed and is adapting amazingly well.  I was doing a lot better than before, but still talking to my husband from time to time (against all the advice of my friends).  My husband has been in and out of rehab and this last time, it was 2 weeks and I had not heard from him.  The last time we spoke, a woman answered the phone and when I left a message and said "Tell him his wife called" she was abrupt and rude.  So, I may be a doormat but I am far from stupid, I called him on his shit…

We were making plans for him to come here and try again.  I take my wedding vows very seriously.  I thought he did too.

He is living with some meth whore he met in rehab and they are both actively drinking (and I highly suspect using) and living in some dive of an efficiency.  This news devastated me.  It has been more than 2 months and I STILL am reeling.  I cannot sleep.  My meds (200 mg zoloft daily) are not cutting it.  Thanks to the hubby cancelling my health insurance, I have no coverage for therapy, but thankfully I get to see counselors at the Domestic Violence Center (yeah, anothing thing I can thank him for).  I dream about him every night and in my dreams I beg him to reconsider.  This man is an abusive racist drunk;  why can I NOT let go?  I have even less self-esteem than I did going into this relationship.  I have a beautiful child.  He is the reason I struggle to live every day.  But the serious truth here is I am about to give up.  My heart is beyond repair.  And I can’t really deal with this anymore.  I wish I could let go and hate him.  But I can’t.

Last time we spoke, he asked me to pay for the divorce, because he wants to marry this bitch.  I hung up on him.  He knew me for 4 years and finally proposed once I became pregnant.  He has known her less than 2 months.

I know I am perpetuating my abuse by wanting him back.  I know this.  Yet it fucking hurts so much.  And I can’t let my son see me upset (he is 3 1/2).  So every night, after he falls asleep next to me, I sob silently until I finally drift off.. only to dream about him.

I feel so lost and alone.