The Fear Ends Here

This week has broken me in ways I didn’t expect. I’ve let all the stress build up and it’s finally showing in my body. The panic attacks have started, one even happening in front of my doctor. She signed me off work because I’m no longer functioning — and that scares me.

I keep telling myself to hold it together for the kids. To smile through the cruel comments, to carry the weight of the house, to pretend everything’s fine. But it’s getting harder when he’s constantly shouting, undermining me, and tearing me down. And on top of that, I’m still trying to navigate teenage hormones and the normal chaos of parenting.

This morning he called me “a clown, an excuse of a person, a moran, brain dead.” Words meant to humiliate and crush me. I’ve lived with comments like that for too long — pretending I could take it, convincing myself I was strong enough to rise above it. But it’s not strength to tolerate abuse. It’s survival. And survival isn’t enough anymore.

My eldest has no respect for her dad anymore. She said to me, “If he treated me with respect, I would respect him. But he doesn’t — he treats me like nothing.” Hearing that broke me. She sees and feels the same lack of respect I’ve lived with for years, and it’s destroying their relationship. Watching that happen is heartbreaking.

This week, he shouted up the stairs about how amazing her younger sister was — while basically calling her a loser. He has no idea of her worth, her strength, her brilliance. Later, when I needed a phone charger for the girls, he said, “I’ll give it to our younger daughter but not the eldest. She’ll get nothing from me.”

That’s not discipline. That’s not parenting. That’s cruelty. And my heart is breaking watching the impact it has on her.

I’ve put up with his behaviour towards me for far too long. But I will not tolerate him treating my kids like this. It’s one thing when it’s me — but not my children. My kids mean everything to me. They are the reason I’ve kept going this long. But now I know I need to get them out of this house. For their sake and for mine. Because holding it together isn’t enough anymore — we deserve more than survival.

Because holding it together isn’t enough anymore. The fear ends here — I choose us.