Too Much Pain

So where do I start now? So much pain...too much pain. It shocks my senses. Since I last blogged I have gone bankrupt, my husband abandoned us and moved himself to North Carolina, I've moved twice...on June 1st and again on November 30th, I injured my right knee quite badly in July (partial ACL tear, 2 meniscus tears, LCL sprain with avulsion fracture) and was out of work for over 6 weeks (and still facing surgery that I keep putting off), my brother Robert died on August 22nd, and I lost my home to a short sale in October. NO SHIT! I'm living in a 2 bedroom trailer with my 3 grown sons and living paycheck to paycheck. I could have never, ever in a million years foreseen all these events. I have cried more tears than I could ever imagine. Yet every morning I wake up, get up and put a smile on my face and my best foot forward and try to keep moving forward. My husband, who WE saved after his brain tumor in 2008, who recovered pretty well from his brain tumor, but never tried for one minute to work at feeling better and never returned to work again...decided he no longer had to be a partner in our 30 year marriage, no longer had to be a father to our children and and because he didn't want to live through another harsh winter...just picked up and left. He decided that only he mattered. That only what he went through mattered. He decided that he would pretend that he retired and fucked us over. His brothers helped him get an apartment, helped him move and have lent him money to furnish a 2 bedroom, 2 level condo on a golf course in New Bern, NC., even though he had a big house full of tons of furniture that I had to either sell, give away or throw away. Not once did his brothers or their wives contact me. Not once did they consider my feelings or those of my sons. They just took it upon themselves to help him run away from the life he completely decimated here. And Rich took my dog, Ranger, my Hungarian Vizsla, the only light we had in our lives since this started, with him, because I had no idea where I would end up. And my husband did not care where I ended up. Nor does he care. And I can't have a dog where I am. I will never forgive him or his brothers or their wives. This I promise...they are dead to me. Deader than my dead sister and my dead brothers. They are horrible, hypocritical people who deserve to rot in Hell. I will spit in their faces if I ever lay eyes on them again. I know there are better days ahead for me. I have to believe this or I could not go on. I hope it won't be so long until the next time I return to this blog. Trying to get through such overbearing and overwhelming pain and feelings of hate and loss and failure is something I'm not accustomed to dealing with. But I have survived and I will survive. I am a survivor! I am well rid of a useless excuse for a human being that did not know the meaning of the phrase "Man up." It should be re-phrased to "Woman up!" At 54 years old I now start my life over. Wish me luck.