So I went back. I feel like a sh**. I didn’t even want to write this but I am being brutally honest in the blog even if I’m completely ashamed of what I have to talk about. I went back partially because I felt like I had no other choice at the moment and partially because I missed him as hard as that is to admit. That’s why my original plan to leave involved me moving several hours away, to keep me safe from him and to keep myself from being tempted to go back. I need to start a life away from here. We have shared 13 years together, raised 5 kids together, and share a big family and friends. I can’t be here and not run into him, running into him would be toxic. I read a blog post the other day comparing an abusive relationship to an addition to meth. I believe it. I know this probably sounds pathetic unless you have been there. My mind is in constant turmoil. It’s like I have these wheels in my head and they are constantly moving in opposite directions. It is exhausting. I can’t comprehend how I can love him and hate him and pity him and be afraid of him, and resent him and need him all at the same time. It makes no sense. So for the moment I am back, I am back to my original plan of leaving in February. I would have thought I would have got a severe punishment for leaving and telling his family what he did but by some miracle, he hasn’t even brought it up and didn’t freak out on me, maybe because he knows everyone is watching him at the moment, or maybe he just hasn’t yet. Either way, I slept in my own bed last night with my dogs, it was familiar and comfortable even though I know it’s poison.