this pregnancy has been harder than I could ever imagine. I’ve been stuck in a very emotionally abusive relationship and I’m just trying to find ways to get out. I cry every night. I’ve started journaling this month. It makes me feel better at times. I’m just ready for my sweet baby to be here then to figure everything out from there. I’m scared and I feel so alone. Here’s some of my journals from the past few days....

July 2nd, 2018

I don’t even know who you are anymore.  

You used to look at me with so much light in your eyes.

Now you don’t even stand up for me.

I feel like no one has my back anymore. 

I’m all alone. 

I don’t ask for much from you. 

I don’t feel like a nag.. do I?

We had a huge fight this morning. 

You called me a cunt.

Told me I was ignorant. 

Pulled my heart out of my chest and stomped all over it.

I cried.

I bawled.

I wanted my mom. 

But like you, she doesn’t care about me anymore either.

I’m all alone. 

I understand you need money to survive in this cruel world,

But money doesn’t make you happy. 

Money doesn’t build a family.

Money doesn’t provide love.

You chose a joke of a man over me today. 

All because of money.

The same man that steals from you,

Threatens you, 

Disrespects your family. 

You say it’s all because of “things” he has on you.

I decided to keep my mouth shut and just agree with you. 

You didn’t see my side. 

My point.

My view.

You never will. 

You’ll never try to understand. 

But I was tired. 

Tired of arguing. 

Tired of being wrong. 

Completely emotionally drained.

I was just an ignorant cunt to you.

Those words stabbed at me harder than a knife ripping down the spine of my back.

You got upset toward the end of our argument. 

I finally retracted and called you a name back.

But then I was the one in the wrong.

It was okay for you to call me names. 

It was okay for you to make me feel so low.

It was okay for you, but no okay for me.

All of this was over a man, that wants nothing but the worst for you and your family.

I have no where to go when I’m sad.

I have no one to talk to when I’m alone. 

I feel lost.

I feel scared. 

The person who I thought was my soulmate, where is he?

Who are you? 

I don’t know you anymore.. 

July 4th, 2018

You left me alone tonight.

For a second night in a row.

So you can go drink with the “boys”

July 4th has always been one of my favorites.

All I wanted was to spend the day with you.

You were here, for the most part.

You wouldn’t let me forget how much you’d rather be with your friends though. 

They’re a lot more fun than me.  

I get it. 

I didn’t have anyone else to spend the day with. 

You kept telling me “I’m here. This is what you wanted” 

But you weren’t here mentally or emotionally. 

Only physically could your presence be seen but not felt.

You love me, you claim. 

But how do you make the one you love feel so alone every day?

I’d rather be all by myself then to look up and see you right in front of me without you even acknowledging my presence. 

I’d rather be alone then to talk to the empty room where your body only takes up space.

Why do I take it?

Why do I let this man take everything from me?

Why have I let myself become your quick pick me up?

Why have I let myself become your tool?

Your thing to do when you get bored?

You claim you love me.

Or at least You try to act like you do to keep me from leaving.

It’s hard to feel loved, when your friends light up your face more than I ever will.

It’s hard to feel loved, when I feel more alone with your presence right beside me than I do at 2 am when I wake up and cry.

I try so hard.

Over and over again.

Where did I fail you?

Where did I go so wrong?

The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays...

But you wouldn’t know that..

July 5th, 2018

I wish I would have started these sooner.

I wish I would have realized the merry go round I’m stuck on before this point.

It’s been going on for way too long. 

Finding out I was pregnant was the best and worst day of my life. 

I gained Madison.

But I lost you. 

I wish I would have never given my all to a man who pics a glass of liquor over myself and his unborn child.

You came home at 5 this morning.

Sleeping alone is becoming easier. 

We don’t cuddle anymore.

We don’t talk anymore. 

Our conversations are short and bland. 

If there even is one. 

You treat me as if I’m the Pesty mosquito that won’t leave your arm.

You’ve looked at your phone and smiled today more than you have at me all week. 

You tried today I guess. 

You took me to eat. 

I got sick. 

You dropped me off.

You left.

You didn’t return my texts as I was throwing up in the bathroom.

You didn’t return my texts as I was debating on going to the ER for shortness of breath. 

I told you something felt off.

That something felt weird.

You laughed at me and said “that must be nice.”

I felt scared.

I felt alone.

I felt like you didn’t care. 

Everyday I feel more alone and more scared.

I wonder how I’ll ever raise my sweet baby on my own. 

I wonder if you’ll ever change like everyone says you will.

I cry a lot in my sleep. 

But you never notice.

I have no friends.

I have no family.

You’ve made sure that I only have you.

When I come to that realization when I’m sitting in bed with no one to talk to, I cry even harder. 

I try to talk to you about things that make me laugh,

Things I care about,

Things that are on my mind. 

You ignore me like I don’t even exist. 

Sometimes you’ll respond. 

But when you do, your smart careless remarks do nothing but hurt more. 

I deserve someone who listens to me. 

You came home about 10 minutes ago. 

You’ve yet to say hello. 

You’ve yet to ask if I’m okay.

You don’t want to be here with me.

You’d rather be anywhere than at this house that I’ve tried to turn into a home. 

Some nights I just want to run. 

I want to run 

And cry 

And let it all out 

And never look back.

But I want better for our daughter. 

I want to give her the chance of seeing her parents raise her in a living home together. 

It breaks my heart knowing I might not be able to give that to her.

Day in and day out, I pray.

Pray for the love that once was.

Pray for the love that created our unborn child.

Then I punish myself for not being able to figure out where I went so wrong.

I punish myself for not being enough for you.

I punish myself for making you so unhappy.

Where do I go from here?

What do I do now?

Who have you made me into?

This isn’t who i am. 

July 6th, 2018

You deleted my post last night. 

I posted that I wish I had someone to talk to.

It was my cry for help. 

Some girls reached out to me.

You deleted it and told me it wasn’t right of me.

I just wanted someone to have a conversation with. 

Someone who actually listened to me.

These were the only words you said to me last night. 

Other than for me to lay down.

You never asked if I was okay. 

Even when you saw me pack our hospital bag. 

Because I knew even if you didn’t care, something didn’t feel right. 

But you still didn’t ask. 

I cried silent tears after you deleted my post,

Told me it wasn’t right of me.

Then tried to hold my hand like nothing was wrong.

You didn’t even notice.

Do you notice anything anymore?

My reflux was killing me. 

Burning a hole through my chest. 

My head hurt beyond extremes. 

I felt short of breath multiple times. 

I told you all of these things.

I couldn’t sleep for fear of something being wrong. 

You didn’t care.

It still makes me weak that you read my post,

Clear as day, 

And still didn’t even ask what I wanted to talk about. 

But you deleted it. 

That’s all you cared about. 

You needed my post gone so that no one would question how you treat me. 

You diminished my need for someone to talk to like it didn’t even exist. 

Because that’s what was best for your image.

What else do I have to do to try to get you to understand?

You talk to your friends all day and all night.

What’s so hard about having a conversation with me? 

You think dragging me away from others solves all of your problems. 

It doesn’t. 

Your need for me to be isolated from others does nothing but cut me deeper.

What’s a dinner without your phone in your hand?

What’s a conversation without your text messages dinging?

What’s a day without you answering a thousand phone calls from your friends?

But not being able to talk to me. 

About anything. 

I feel even more alone than ever.

I cried myself to sleep again. 

But you’ll never know.  

You don’t notice anything about me anymore. 

Do you?