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Janna B Jun 25
My tears leak out today
The girls are they okay?
Beautiful little eyes and souls
Oh-my-loves I tried for you.
I try for you.

Behind the scenes,
you’ll know when you’re bigger
This dad of your dreams?
He’s new and designer.
He tries for you..
Janna B May 28
Happy non-anniversary to you.
I marked it emotionally
but I forgot what the day was.
I marked it by
processing, tracking my progress;
taking a very rare breath to reflect.
I recognised the barriers still left,
looked at ways to overcome them.
You meant so much once,
and now I forget.
Happy non-anniversary
to me.
Janna B Jan 27
My (ex) mother in law says
She loves me,
she won’t say any more but
worries I’ll miss her boy
one day in the future.
I was his pride and joy.

My mother says
maybe the women of the past
tried harder.
Is there anything to rescue,
women must try harder than men.

I haven’t worried about missing him;
until now.
The relief has felt so liberating.
Relief from that pressure
to carry it all, do it all,
with a smile, without love.
A smile, a gesture, care my way
would have been fuel for a year,
but the silence felt suffocating.

I’d rather love myself
than smile and pretend that I’m loved
by the husband in my bed.
For our kids, for me, I’m better alone.

Now, though,
that worm in my ear.
Will I regret this more next year?
More than the grief of this family broken?

I cannot see that I will.
Joy is breaking through;
but —
What do I do with this worm?
My mothers. Make me worry about my choices; but oh my goodness I’m finally making progress and I feel so much lighter and able to heal.
Janna B Dec 2020
Husband going back
To hospital
Mental health
Oh my god
Not again

I broke free
But feel so guilty
Is it my fault?
They say not.
Couldn’t survive with him
Can he survive without me.
Janna B Dec 2020
I have trouble expressing
why I needed to leave him -
reasons never seem enough.
He’s not evil,
my words seem so inadequate.
But my whole soul cringes at the thought
of going back.
I can’t really say that out loud, can I?

He lost capacity for emotion
For year upon year
Except for anger, withdrawal, resentment.
And yet, he did his job, his duty.

A friend said, watching me try hold it all together
was like watching me try to stop sand from
slipping through my fingers.
I tried and tried but it kept slipping away.
broken promises, broken lives.

Maybe if I did things differently
Maybe if I was better
Religious morals ring loud
for good, for bad
My vows felt like a trap
He counted on them, relaxed after that.

I didn’t count on the feelings
The abandonment
The bone sorrow
Creeping upon me.

I cannot express how
they accumulated until
I saw a ray, a tiny crack of love and
Knowing that existed showed me
I could never stay.
My marriage was illuminated as

I held a memory of that ray
and needed to leave -
both for survival
to give him back responsibility for
his life.
That was too much for me.

But I look at my girls and I wish we were whole.
No reason seems good enough.
Just still working through it..
Janna B Dec 2020
‘I’ve something to tell you...
I kissed someone else.’
‘You kissed someone else?!
That can’t be true, who?’

‘How could you not notice me,
you had many chances to see...
I don’t know what I want,
but this is honesty.’

He storms away, slamming door
out into the night. Then -

‘I’m sorry, your actions are yours but
it’s my fault you’re there...
please, I’ll get help, be your friend
I’ll get better, I swear...’

‘I love you’ says he
‘Why, truthfully?’
‘You’re so beautiful...
I don’t want to fail..’
But beautiful is a trophy, a conquest
and marriage isn’t a contest.

Actually, I now see
The kissing of someone else
was me, breaking free.
I’d broken long ago
his promises felt hollow
I was clutching at saving me.

My joy, our family, our life
all millstones to him,
burden and strife.
The endless trying, ideas and hope,
Fell on deaf ears - I was just the wife.

Then I stuck around, tried,
grief searing inside.
Let him touch me (excruciatingly)
give flowers and hold me...
but it was gone with old tides.

And simple jealousy tipped him?
Got to be kidding me.
I’m not feeling sorry for myself...just trying to express how deeply it cut. And the feeling of abandonment that just went on for so long.
Janna B Dec 2020
I see the man
who is still my husband
many of the days.
Handover of children,
he looks so withdrawn.
He is hating on me
he looks to be suffering
I had to break free.

When we were together
nothing fulfilled him
or the hole in his soul.
I turned circus tricks
Look at that, look at this!
But any joy poured in
disappeared, black abyss.

I almost did too.
Janna B Nov 2020
The advice was
'Support him,
try to help him.
He needs sleep when he’s tired
(even if it’s all day).'
'Try to talk to him,
he’s hurting inside.
Help him,
he needs you.'

I believed that,
and I tried.
I tried until
I felt almost gone
My words disappeared!
A glass pane formed
between myself and the world.

I didn't know
I could go too far.
Give too much support.
No-one says that,
who would have thought?

I didn’t know
support can become a crutch.
He could settle,
no need to improve.
Who would have thought?

Depression is real.
It just doesn’t mean
that you are first always,
or that you don't need to try
or talk to your spouse.
That was just -
taking advantage.
I do know that depression is real, I really feel for sufferers. That's why I stayed for so long. I just didn't realise... I was enabling it. That's not in the self-help books. Now, he's actively trying to get help...
To Mia

You see I know this girl  , I’ve known her for  as long  I can remember . Sometimes though for some reason ,Unknown to me, she makes appearance. For a while after she’s on my mind , constantly on my mind . It’s like she’s worked her way into every nerve every cell she’s there . I have to please her I’ve got to keep her happy. My mind is a  machine , a machine with cogs and the cogs keep turning but when she’s around they’re on overdrive constantly worrying to point where I worry so much it makes me ill .

You see I know this girl , a girl called Mia.

I direct this at you.
The one that clings to my sides,
hangs off my clothes :Weighing me down
Like a tonne of sugar  in my gut
Down .
Down .
I can’t stomach it any longer !  
You stick to every ounce of my being, Creating a blinding hatred Spiralling
Down .
Down .
Down .
my appearance to the public eye now untrue to my reflection,  I wont be added to your collection but the obsession to meet your expectations
is impulsive .

empty swallows, hollow sorrows .
I crave it .
I need it .
you’ve infected every nerve .
I’m weak .
“hide yourself” , no one can see .
don’t  stop yet
please stop
I can’t stop
drop .

I’m frail , one more blow from you
And I’ll crumble .
Nothing but a bag of bones covered in an
Off white security blanket .
You have thinned my hair ,
Made my nails brittle ,
And my throat swell .
But still you’re attention
Is what I crave the most
I starve to please .
To please you .
I’m starving .
I have struggled with bulimia most of my life , these are my thoughts to you Mia .
Mable Erina Sep 2019
You’re not a quitter.
Where’s the fight in you girl?
You don’t give up.
You were never one to give up.

I know you’re tired.
I know you feel so weak.
But it’s not over. It’s never over until you say it’s over.
Keep fighting.
Keep pushing.

You love yourself.
You have to.
How can you expect anyone to love you, if you don’t?
You can’t.
So love that little girl.
Even when she’s weak,
even when she wants to give up,
even when she’s hurting,
because she’s worth it.
You’re worth it.
Remember, you can cry,
but only standing up.
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