september 9th

The day starts like a regular day.  I get up, get the kids ready, send them to school and I get ready for work.  This is a thurday and Doris has taekwondo, but since James is taking care of them, we send them home on the bus and he is going to be leaving and taking her in while I am just getting home to stay with Irene.  On my way home, james explains that the kids are making him anxious and he can't cope with them and no way can he go to taekwondo.  I rush home, Doris makes me supper so that I don't Have to wait until 8:30 to have it.  I start thinking about all of this while a taekwondo.  He can't handle the kids, and he doesn't have coping skills, how is he going to get better if he is with them every day and he is not coping?  and not learnign how to cope yet. how is it going to get better?  how is it a good home for the kids?  is it healthy for the kids to whitness this happen everyday?  How long before they would be able to notice that it was everytime daddy was with them that he gets sick and goes to bed?  This isn't good.  The solution that I come up with, is that he moved out.  i don't know for how long or if it will work.  but if he can focus on his copeing skills only and not have the stress then he should be able to get better right?  and faster?

It hurts that he doesn't fight me on it, just just says ok.  But I am also mad.  why did it have to wait this long?  why did he never try to do those little things at home? breathing, relaxation techniques, yoga, exercise?  So I let him walk out.  I keep expecting him to come and tell me that he hates it, doesn't want to do it and wants to stay here, but he never does.  I get up to get ready for bed and he is crying.  He doesn't know why.  he doesn't want to talk about it.  I asked if there was anything else.  one last chance.  he says, 'I love you"  "and i love you too, or I wouldn't be able to walk away, but sometimes love isn't enough"  And I cry myself to bed.  i ask him to sleep somewhere else, because I didn't feel loved and didn't want to share my bed with someone that did love me.