I was really low when we lived down south... we (my 3 kids and I) move out of a refuge into a little bungalow in the middle of no where. I felt isolated in the tiny village. The only occupants apart from a small local shop, a pub, a church and the primary school were elderly and my children had a lonely 6 week summer holiday with only each other to play with. Id drop them off at school and then go home to sleep. There was no where to walk, we didn't have internet or TV or a phone... just my mobile. I had no friends, no family and no contact with another living soul until it came time to pick the kids up at 3.15.
In November last year (after 8 months in isolation) , against all the advice of the authorities and school, I moved up north to the city. With every move I feel like I've lost something, a feeling of being trapped in an abusive ten year marriage gave way to being blue and isolated which now has become depression and anger and frustration. I feel like I've lost so much and I cant get it back.
I was superwoman, I could cope with anything and for years of marriage I survived by my passions my strength and my friends. I lost that when we moved and what little positive spirit I had left I lost.
Down south in the bungalow I resigned myself to being alone personally, I worked on my self confidence, spending time and money on myself and not feeling guilty and I felt more okay in my own skin that I had ever felt since I got married at 21.
Naturally when moving south we downsized our 'junk' considerably but moving back up north all we had was a duffle bag and a couple of suitcases. I know material stuff shouldn't mean a lot, but it was mine... it carried memories, happy ones through out all the years of abuse.... and in our empty little flat we now live in I miss those things. pictures of the kids and by the kids. Books, cards, family heirlooms. Stuff.
Our flat now doesn't feel like a home and a sudden loss in income means I cant afford to change that.
I left 98% of my things behind trying to bring as much of the kids stuff as possible, clothes, shoes, toys. It meant leaving behind the new things I had bought and I know it sounds daft but I don't think I've gotten over leaving it all behind. Like those things represented the new free me. With all the stress of moving I lost a LOT of weight and dropped down to just over 8 stone (size 10). I bought new clothes I felt amazing and beautiful for the first time in my adult life, and I didn't need anyone to tell me that. I was so happy and confident and I loved that feeling. But I was in reality too thin and I needed to take better care of myself. In truth I loved it, being that size and when I recently started eating properly I put a stone of that back on. Bang goes my confidence again.
I know realistically I couldn't stay that small, and im not HUGE really now. And apart from my returning bust... no one has noticed the weight gain. But I feel HUGE and ugly and out of control. Like Im going to blow up and be the 14 stone blob I was when I was married. I suppose that exposed how fragile my confidence was, that I thought the only thing I had going for me was that I was a size 10.
I cant help it I just don't feel pretty or sexy, never have... the closest thing I had was being skinny.
I have achieved so much I owned, designed and ran a website helping people for years, I survived abuse, I raise 3 beautiful children and I continue to try my best and my hardest.
Im just not happy. I just don't get enjoyment from anything anymore, TV, running a website (which I loved doing and cant seem to get into anymore) and everyone keeps telling me I've let myself go.
Im doing my best.
I don't know what to do about it anymore... I take my meds I try to get out I walk I smile I talk, I've gotten a job offer, im taking a confidence for work course, im going to start group sessions with EVA again (which I cant stand)... but it feels like autopilot. None of it is for me. I want to be happy and creative again. I want to look nice and feel good. I want to have favourite TV shows and look forward to a glass of wine and a bubble bath, I want to enjoy books and films again, I want to laugh and go for walks with friends and be passionate about things. I miss museums, over priced coffee, the beach and picnics and buying stuff I don't need for the kids, myself or the house.
They're small things but they're the things people take for granted and I miss them. I feel like a shell living in a shell of a flat. I promised my children everything was going to be better and it doesn't feel like it.