A stay-at-home-mum with a husband, two children, a labradoodle and a 4-bed house in the idyllic Cotswolds. The classic all-looks-perfect-from-the-outside life.

Then why is my marriage crumbling at such a great rate of knots?

Sat scrolling through my phone – after yet another blow out argument with the husband – I’m struggling to find a friend I want to share the events with and work out what to do.

I have lots of loving friends but I have never felt so lonely.

I’ve let relationships outside my immediate four walls slide (fuel for another post right there) thanks to the busy-ness of parenting two kids that depend on me for most things. So when I want to find someone to talk to, I don’t feel I deserve the ear of a friend who I’ve not spoken to in donkey’s years about something as involved as this.

The shame of explaining what started the argument that lead my husband to throw some vicious home truths my way is too much. I don’t think I can say out loud what a bolshie, unhappy person I’ve become. To say it, is to admit it.

My latest tirade was thanks to my husband scrunching up my daughter’s muslin. I won’t bother with why that lead to such a ferocious tirade (again, fuel for yet another post) but I just saw red and grabbed it out of his hand and let rip.

What the fuck.

How has my life come to this?

Divorced over a muslin.

The husband says he wants to be alone. This is the last thing I want. I want to stop him from being so angry at me. I want to make this better now. But I can’t.

How do we come back from this? What is the root of the unhappiness that envelops our marriage?

At a practical level, how do I carve out the time needed to give myself the requisite headspace to start working on my unhappiness?

Strangely enough, something about the argument has sparked me to get my laptop out and write this. It’s helped me realise I do have a problem. Exactly what the problem is though and how to sort it is a long way off. But I guess writing makes me feel good and in turn adds a little happiness so I don’t feel that burning anger deep inside.

And it’s only Monday morning…

Pink Pear Bear
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