How did we get so Lost?

October 2016

So here we are 4 months later, so much has happened, yet at the same time it feels as though we have got nowhere.

He has had fantastic financial advice from the support team who re-homed him, he is now in the process of sorting out some benefits to enable him to live independently.

He has started some counselling therapy, which is great news, but nowhere near enough. Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be anywhere near enough funding or understanding from any of the charities involved, one hour a week is a great start, but ideally needs to be a lot more frequent, I just wish we could afford to pay for private treatment that he so urgently needs.

He is still so scared of everything, scared of trust, love, his own emotions, and other people. And he still relies on alcohol to help with these feelings, that he cannot admit to.

I feel like we have lost each other lately, that we don’t understand each others needs. The only time he opens up to me is late at night when he’s had a good few drinks, by which time his messages don’t make a lot of sense, he contradicts himself a lot as though he is unsure of what he is saying, not knowing whether to even believe his own words.

His moods seem to be directly linked to money. When he has a bit, he is in a lighter mood, but when it runs out, the depression and anger resurface again. Maybe it’s a pride thing. I understand this as I get severely anxious and upset over money worries myself, but luckily, I have learnt to manage it well.

He will not let me love him, constantly pushing me away, dismissing any offers of comfort, help or love. This causes a range of emotions in me, I cry almost daily, knowing he will never love me in the way I love him. I just pray that he has love for our daughter when she is born, that he doesn’t push her away and deny her existence like he does with me. I’m grown up enough to know that I will eventually get over it, but she is just an innocent little baby in all of this, who I hope and pray can have a loving relationship with her Daddy.

Now he has his little boy D living with him, he has a bit more to focus on, and I can see that he is going to be a great Dad, he is constantly learning through D, and wishes the best for his kids, although sometimes he lacks logic and direction, and doesn’t understand that children’s needs are a lot different to adults. Seeing him being a good Dad gives me an overwhelming love for him.

He says he wants to go and get D’s sister H from Thailand to live with them also, which I think will benefit both kids being together and having a loving family and community around them.

So, back to my situation… 8 months pregnant, single, living alone with nobody to catch the spiders or take the bins out for me! But, I’m managing. Physically anyway. Emotionally, I’m broken.

I am trying to stay strong for my little girl, but being treated the way he treats me after a drink has worn me down too much now. He tells me that me and my family, friends, that we’re “pond life” that we will never achieve anything in this life because we live in a lovely quiet little village. A village that he has spent a lot of time in over his life! Yes, he may have travelled and sown his oats in far away lands, but that life isn’t for everyone. I like the stability I get from knowing my neighbours, knowing I can call on someone at the drop of a hat if needed.

He has decided to move to Cardiff, to a new development down the docks. It certainly seems like the easiest option for him, the charity helping him has arranged everything, he doesn’t need to make any calls to sort out his housing benefits or deposit help, he doesn’t need to buy any furniture, everything is done for him. Which is what the charity do, help him to be able to live independently. But surely, teaching him to figure these things out for himself like a grown up would have been a lot more beneficial for teaching independence?

I understand that he cannot live in the village anymore, around the Pond Life scum like myself, because he has an enemy he cannot face. I look forward to visiting when I take Baba to meet her Dad. None of his other children will be able to just pop over at the drop of a hat anymore, it will take at least two train journeys, so I feel that they maybe missing out on time with their Dad when they have only just got him back in their lives.

So yes, I feel like we are lost. Like we are fighting a losing battle with the demons in his head, with alcohol, with money. But most of all, I am angry. So angry, with a system that has let him down so badly. He has received next to no help or counselling for his PTSD, which is the whole point of him getting help. Yes, I’m grateful for the financial support he has been given, but what is money when you don’t have your own mind anymore? I don’t see how anything has changed in the last few months other than where he sleeps, and this breaks my heart knowing how badly he needs help, and there is nobody to give it to him unless we pay a lot of money for private therapy.

Luckily, he and his friend B, are trying to raise awareness of this, trying to raise funds, which can hopefully go towards offering therapy to those in need once they are off the street.

I will never stop loving him, although some days when I can’t breathe through the tears and heartache, I wish that love had an off switch. He has given me a gift that I never even knew I wanted, this little girl about to make her appearance into the world. A world where I pray that I can show her how loved she is, that she has nothing to fear. And hopefully one day, he will realise how loved he is too.

He once told me that he could only talk to his support worker, as she understood better than me what he was going through. But she is a housing advisor, not a therapist. So I took it on board when he told me to do some research into PTSD.

I am currently studying a Diploma in Mental Health alongside a Diploma in PTSD Awareness, so that I can try to understand PTSD and maybe he will let me help and support him in the future. My aim is to become a Mental Health Support worker, so that I can try to help others going through PTSD, and guide their families and partners through it, as I know all too well the huge impact that mental illness has on the surrounding families.

If I only manage to help one person, then I will be satisfied.

Advertisements