Life moves on.

My last post was a mess.


I won’t even go back and read it, but I think I talked about the prescribed Prozac.

I started them. I think I’m on day 11 with them.

I think they work. For the last week, no crying. No anxiety attacks.

The crying thing may be longer than a week. I just realized yesterday that I haven’t cried in a while.

I’m also not sleeping. At all. Seems to be a common side effect, but one I’m OK with at this time. 

Also, no ruminating. Thoughts come, but they don’t take over. It’s weird, and I know I’m in the beginning stages of this medication, but it seems to be working.

I welcome this break. That’s what it feels like, a break.

I’m accepting that what my dad did and the aftermath of it all was just a bit of a trauma and I was not handling it well. The nightmares have somewhat stopped, probably because I’m not sleeping, and when thoughts of him come around, I’m handling it a bit better.

I had a very rocky, difficult relationship with my father. It’s the guilt I seem to be struggling with.

I texted him Thursday before he did what he did on the following Saturday.

I know he got it. But I got busy and didn’t follow up. I kept telling myself I needed to call him and make sure he got the text, but it would be while I was driving, or out in the chicken coop… I just seemed to be busy when I thought I needed to call him instead.

I wonder constantly if I had, would he still have made that choice?

When I saw him in March, I noticed he was struggling with the phone. He didn’t seem to be grasping the new phone he had.

I don’t know. Silly thing to feel guilty about. But there it is.

Life with the husband is the same. But I just don’t seem to care. I also have this weird sense that he’s aware I have some options with that Kentucky house. He seems to be trying a bit more here and there.

But I also have this empty, numb feeling inside of me that it’s just too late now.

He and I got into a fight on day 2 of Prozac. He has always pushed that get on some kind of head meds.

Day 1-5 were horrible. Really bad headache, no sleeping, I felt ‘muddled’ and weird.

I asked him, “you have always pushed for me to be on something, I know what goes on in my head and how I feel inside, but what was I portraying on the outside to you for you to suggest I go on something?”

I really felt like this was a good question. I was genuinely curious. I was very calm when I asked. I was also feeling physically horrible on day 2 and was already thinking hell no, I’m not doing this.

Instead of talking to me and having some kind of adult conversation, he threw insults at me, compared me to my mother, called me abusive, (he can never give me examples of this ‘abuse’ though. Ever. I’ve asked.)

It was the mother comment that shook me. I realized, he does things like that to shut down a conversation.

I was 23. He was 24. We went down to Florida to see my mother. My mom was a drunk. It was the first time he met her and she was drunkenly telling a story about having her boat motor stolen.

She repeated the story several times.

Over the years, when he and I would fight, he would throw in a dig at me and say something along the lines of “you’re just going to be the trash you are and get your boat motor stolen”

It used to send me right over the edge.

He did it that night. He threw in the boat motor insult.

What the hell? I just looked at him. I realized, in some weird horror, that he would now have yet another one to throw at me with what my father did.

Why does he do that?

I pointed out what he was doing. I asked when he would sink to the lowest point ever and throw my father at me.

He looked shocked. “I wouldn’t!”

But he would.

He went on to say he felt I was attacking him with the question I asked him. I still do not know how that question could be viewed as an attack.

He does not make any sense to me and I believe I just don’t care anymore.

So I’m just waiting now. The estate is opened, and I believe I’m waiting as everything is processed. I’m new to all of it, but am starting to grasp what is ahead.

I will either keep the house… or sell the house.

And there will be some money then.

About Walking the Journey

I'm a wife of 22+ years, a mother of three, a sister, a friend. This is my journey on healing after an affair. I'm full of sarcasm, humor and truth. Sharing the journey after my husbands affair, I'm hoping to rid myself of the demons and get a ticket out of crazy town that I'm living in.
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5 Responses to Life moves on.

  1. Hi, Walking,

    I am one of the followers of your blog and wanted to share with you a podcast that someone I know has started as a way of healing from her father’s suicide. She discusses the trauma of that event in the newest episode. Feel free to ignore this, as it might be too triggering, but just in case you find it helpful, I thought you should have this link.

    I hope you’re hanging in there. I admire your courage to share your story with us all.

    Best wishes, AHKM

    On Saturday, October 23, 2021, Walking the Journey wrote:

    > Walking the Journey posted: “My last post was a mess. Sorry. I won’t even > go back and read it, but I think I talked about the prescribed Prozac. I > started them. I think I’m on day 11 with them. I think they work. For the > last week, no crying. No anxiety attacks. The crying thing” >

  2. You’re very welcome 🤗

  3. Gone says:

    Protect yourself from husband please. Find a way for the money to be in trust and not his.

  4. Ease says:


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