It’s Called Hurt

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August 17, 2007
Today started off really rough. I was in my office and felt very overwhelmed, and found it difficult to concentrate. I was just so engulfed with emotion. I then went to the park and I could not stop crying, so I called the Woman’s Shelter and spoke with a councillor on the phone. I felt better and was able to return to work. I was surprised how good it was to talk to somebody. My friend from work then came into my office and we went for a walk. She is such a good friend, she makes me laugh. She wanted us to go away from here and move to Calgary. The idea to leave town is very tempting. I wander what it would be like to change my environment. I no longer would be triggered by black Toyotas, and no longer wander if she is working here in town. I would be free! I also thought it might be fun to go the National Theatre School . That is something I wanted to do when I took theatre at University. It would be a completely life! I still feel like I am trapped in a way because I am still here with the same job.I am still so sad and hurt. I have to stop obsessing about them. I still cannot believe this is happening to me. It is funny but I do not want to be with him, but at the same time I do not want to be alone. I hate it! I am not used to it. I do not want to be single and 32. I was supposed to be married. I want their relationship to fail! I want him to feel what it is like to be alone.

I have attended many councelling sessions and still am not mentally well. It is just too overwhelming.To watch you ex husband leave and nothing, a hug, a kiss goodbye, to fearing for your safety. Also to have the police in your house “for your protection” when 2 weeks before we were watching TV in our house. I am still finding it hard to digest. And then to have it labelled abusive finding out it could have resulted in death is very overwhelming.Why aren’t my cats sick anymore? Why am I not throwing up anymore? I was thinking of taking Ipecac just to see if I felt the same.

I ask myself why?, why? why? everyday. And what the hell really happened. It was hell. I could probably write a book. As I lay here I have an uncomfortable feeling in my chest that will not go away. I think it is called “hurt”

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