ITS SEE YOU LATER...

POTL - Pre Operational Tour Leave

H had two weeks off prior to his deployment. I was excited about being able to spend the time with him before his travels, but also slightly anxious about getting used to him being there before he gets swept away! Two weeks doesn't sound long enough to get used to someone, but going from weekend only visits to a full two weeks was like a luxury pampered holiday when you don't want to go home (back to reality).

As I knew H would want to see his friends from home and family members I only booked one week off work, the first week which was a mistake!! We spent the first week visiting and had one lazy day at home with the children watching DVDs and eating sweets! We didn't concentrate enough on us! Only one day did we spend the day together, and that was a good day, a VERY good day. We woke up a Saturday morning, and dropped the children to my mothers. We went back home to get ready, we both slipped into our red tops... It was Grand Slam day. Once we were all ready we held hands and headed for the train station! There were about 8 people at the station, mainly dressed in red! As the train pulled up, you could see that it was full with colours of red and blue! We stepped (I jumped, I'm only short!) onto the train, our carriage was over powered with blue shirts and berets. "I think we're on the wrong carriage!" I said. H looked at me and smirked. He gripped my hand tightly and we walked through the blue sea into the "red" carriage! Thankfully rugby was not represented by such hooligans as football, and it definitely was not a problem that we'd been mixed in with the blues to begin with! Once we were in Cardiff you could tell that the Capitol was rammed with supporters! Rivers of red and blue streamed the high street! This was my first rugby experience in Cardiff and I looked at H and my heart skipped with excitement! We found a pub and a spot to stand, we were clearly too late to get a seat!! The rugby did not start for 2-3 hours, yet every where was pumping! It was amazing! I loved looking around at all the happy people, and looking at my H. This (I knew) was going to be an amazing memory, whether we won the Grand Slam or not!

When the rugby started a woman called me up to sit on a ledge with her in the pub. H was fine with that as my feet were killing me, blinking heels! So I hopped up onto the ledge and watched intensely, screaming at the appropriate times and turning around for H to give me the odd wink, which made my heart skip a beat more times than Halfpenny scoring a try! The game was coming to an end and we had done it! We had won the Grand Slam against France! Everyone was screaming, everyone was hugging! I turned around, I could not get to him, I could not reach H! I was so overwhelmed by the whole experience, and that I knew this was a memory archived for me to refer to when H was deployed, my eyes filled with tears of joy and sorrow all at the same time! I turned to look at H, my phone buzzed, I looked down "I love you xxxx". I whipped my head around, he gave me his heart melting smile, winked and blew me a kiss, mouthing the words I love you! My smile beamed from ear to ear. If only I could get to him. The woman I was sat with bounced off the ledge, and I quickly followed, grabbed hold of H and gave him a huge kiss! The pub announced that they had run out of beer, so it was time for us to leave. We headed back to the train station and decided that we would go to the village pub before heading home!

I knew that once he had deployed to Afghanistan that all I would have to do is think of that moment when I turned to see him after winning the Grand Slam, and I would smile!

After a week with H, and knowing that he only had one week left before he deployed, I cried at the thought of having to go to work! I was petrified that if anything was to happen to him in Afghanistan that I would regret being in work that week for the rest of my life. I spoke to my boss, she understood and let me take the second week off too! I'm very blessed and lucky to have such a lovely boss!

Once again we did not stop the second week! So many people to see, so many things to do! We had decided that we were going to take the children to Lego Land, and had decided on the Thursday. This was not a problem, and I told J's school that we would be taking him out of school for the day like we had the week before. They understood. Unfortunately someone did not. J's dad sent me messages that only a child would think of saying, they were that ridiculous. I tried explaining to him that H is going away for six months and J would not see his step dad during this time, and missing one day of school to spend the day with H was not out of order. As horrible as it sounds I wanted to say "For all we know this could be the last time J sees H if the worst was to happen!". What went through J's fathers head no one knows but his response was untterly ridiculous - "So if it all kicks off in the Falklands and we all get called up like in the World War, I get to take J out of school whenever I want is it?". My response to this was "Shut up" I could not believe what I had just read!

Needless to say, we took J out of school to spend the last day of leave with H and as a family, as I was to drop H to camp the following day! And we had an absolutely fantastic day! J and H became best friends, running off to go on the biggest roller coaster together! And H went on the kids roller coaster with T also so not to leave him out. It was a much needed family day before H left! And to see the little Lego guards Trooping The Colour in Lego London brought a tear to my eye!

We were driving home up the m4, and I realised POTL had come to an end and it was almost time to say Goodbye! On the Friday we drove back down the m4, and I looked out the window most of the time with silent tears falling down my cheeks, I think I hid this well from H, and I don't think he noticed. Well I hope he didn't. I felt silly, weak! I stayed with H that night and I would drive home on the Saturday. It was easy to push away the following days promise (to take my H away) whilst we sat in a friends Hot Tub, eating BBQ. Another lovely memory.

I woke up Saturday morning thinking that what was happening couldn't be happening! I wasn't ready! I tried to be happy to not ruin our last few hours, but I struggled! What was I doing? Just smile and snap out of it I kept telling myself! Then it was too late. I sat on his bed as all the boys, and H filled the car with H's room! The car was full, I had to leave! The bed sucked me in. H walked into the room and looked at me. The bed released me and I jumped up at speed and grabbed him so tight. I tried holding it together but I lost it. I sobbed into his chest. He held me just as tight. How could I let this moment go? I could feel his breath on my neck, it gave me goosebumps! My body shakes as I tried to pull away.

I held his hand tightly as he walked me to the car. I sucked it up, and held my head high, all teared out I thought! I will not cry again I tried to promise myself. He sat in the car as I drove to the barracks gate to leave. There they were, the gates, the gates that lead me to a lonely six months! He jumped out of the car quickly, and ran around to my side! I opened my door but did not get out! He spoke loving words to me and words of encouragement as he bent down and held me. I wish I could remember those words but it's all a blur. I was crying again! His glazed over green eyes looked into my teary blue ones! He looked close to tears. I told him to stay safe and not forget me! He closed my door, my window was open. He leaned in and kissed my lips. It was time for me to drive away.

I did not look in my mirror, I did not want to know if he stood there and watched me or if he turned and walked away straight away. The soldier on stag gave me a sympathetic smile and nod. I smiled back. I turned out of the barracks and my eyes filled. I could not see through the tears. I had to pull over and pull myself together. I drove the wrong way twice! And both times I ended up driving passed the barracks again! My brain wanted me to run back in for just one more kiss, but I could not bear saying goodbye again! I found my way and turned the radio up loud! I sang (sometimes through tears) all the way home!

This was going to be a long few months. Next is my RnR tease! Words cannot describe the loneliness as I eat my tea without a text coming through, or laying in bed without his goodnight call. My first contact should ease my anxiety a bit. Until then I shall continue crying into my food, and laying in bed cwtching his pillow!

Stay safe soldier... All my love!

WHERE TO TURN

Well, deployment looms as ever, and things have gone down the slippery slope and completely off course.

Alcohol - What does it mean in everyones lives? A bit of fun? A vice? Something you cannot live without? Unfortunately I have been exposed to alcoholism most of my life. My dad is the way he is due to alcohol. He has damaged his body so much. Yet I still drink! Cirrhosis of the liver is hard to come to terms with when you are told your dad has it and he will not get a transplant. Why ruin your body that way? I also, this week, learned that my dads brain is actually 30 years older than it should be due to alcohol damage. I want to shake him, I wish I had known this many many moons ago, so I could warn him! Stop him from drinking!

My husband likes a drink. And unfortunately he drinks more than I care to admit of minding. It's his life, I think. But once it starts effecting my life, I have to take charge. Unfortunately walking out on the one you love seemed my only option.


It was very late on a Friday night. H had been drinking with his very close friend, a friend of which I approved! H seemed happy and that was nice to see. The boys sat with me and spoke how boys do, having a laugh. When his friend left, I was not expecting the turn of events.

After texting a thank you message to a friends boyfriend, as he had bought me an American Army hoody (as requested), a text which I though was innocent. H did not see it this way.

Unfortunately, H has been pushing himself away now for some time, and I worry that this may be some sort of self shield before he deploys to war once more in a months time. Due to the distancing being created between us, and an innocent incident by myself, it has also planted non-trusting thoughts into his head. These thoughts seem to surface after a good few beers!

Things got a bit out of hand, and I felt no choice but to grab my children and leave the house. This was not a scare tactic, my decision was final (at that moment) to leave for good!

This non-H like manner only comes out after a drink. Alcohol! H's vice! I longed for him to see that, in my eyes it was causing a wedge! And that wedge was due to crack very soon.

I'm sure your all wondering of my innocent incident that has planted doubt in H's head. A couple of months ago, H and I were out watching the Welsh Guards rugby, and as expected we bumped into some of H's friends from the Welsh Guards. I got on extremely well with one friend in particular. It wa not a sexual attraction, we had good banter. H was there so there was nothing going on. After talking to this boy on Facebook for a while, it sparked jealously within H. My 'not telling him' probably did not help, but the messages were not at all cheat-worthy. H has now read all the messages between his friend and myself, but unfortunately the induced jealousy is hard for him to shake off.

That weekend I did nothing but cry. I was up and down like a yo-yo. I'm leaving him, I'm staying with him. Where's my flower so I can pull each petal off, maybe that could help me make a decision and help my eyes see clearly!

I could not live without him, I could not breath without him, and the thought of him going to Afghanistan without my support was overwhelmingly hurtful!

I went to my counselling session on that Sunday. What do I do, I thought. I went in, independent woman styley! I can do this! I was determined that was the end, and that niggling at the back of my head will disappear over time. It had to disappear! I stepped into my home, there he was, ready to leave for work. I looked at his face, it stabbed my heart numerous times. This independent woman malarky was not kicking in. His beautiful green eyes read me like a book, he opened his arms and lifted his mouth. I fell into him. This is where I belong. My wonderful thought, sat in his arms. I cried! We cannot let go of what we have, it's still there hidden under doubt, fear and worry, but it was there.

We made promises. Let's hope we both stick by them! Mr & Mrs H... We're too strong together, we are a team!

H will cut down the drinking, he promised he will for me. I really really hope that my belief in him is reality. That moment I fell into his arms that night, it was like the beginning of a new chapter. I could breath more clearly, filling my lungs to the brim. This is how true love feels, it feels warm & cosy, with a slight glimpse of new horizons!

This right here, this is my wonderful thought. When I start feeling low, when I start having doubts, when he is not close to me, I can feel the butterflies. The butterflies of excitement, the butterflies of his comforting arms.

His arms will be around me soon! Think Of A Wonderful Thought....

I LONGED TO BE LOVED

My mother and I decided after about two hours of sitting there remembering old times and singing Wham! to my dad, it was time to go pick up H from the train station and get some seriously needed shut eye. I was completely drained and exhausted.

I was nervous as to how H was going to be with me. He'd had time to think on the train, had his mind been his own worst enemy or had he seen sense? He got in the car, I sat in the back. I could smell the alcohol on him! He tried to be as cheery as possible to my mum, but I could tell that the fact that he was home was purely honouring his husband duties.

I fell asleep in the back of my mums car, and woke when she stopped outside my house. H pulled the front seat forward so I could get out of my mums ridiculously small Yellow Mini. "I'll call you in the morning, or before if I hear anything from the hospital. And thank you mum".

I gave H a hug in the street, I got nothing back and as I reached up to kiss him he shook his head and gave me his cheek. I was heartbroken. If he loved me, and he knew how much pain I was in why would he not comfort me? What exactly was the point in him coming home at all? I tried shrugging it off so I could get some sleep, but this did not work. I had to bring it up, I had to have it out with him. I really should've thought that through! The conversation that followed was not a nice one, and it left me more scarred than I already was.

My body ached and urged for the gentle touch of my loving husband. He was no where to be seen, what sat in front of me was a stranger. I had never met this person before. He put cold arms around me as I sobbed. Cold, meaningless arms. They may as well have been razors for the pain and the hurt they caused. I wanted to push them away, but I wanted him in any form that he wished to give me.

We slept like two people in a bed, not a couple. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I fell asleep. Maybe he will see sense, maybe he still loves me. This chapter in my life was going to take a long time to heal, the cuts were deep.

H went back to work after the weekend. My dad woke up. I had lost two men in the space of a week. H was a stranger and this frail, scared man in the hospital bed was also a stranger. He could not speak. He was ripping his tubes out. He was acting like a child. I could not comprehend this. This man was my dad, my hero. How could this have happened? How did he become this? I still feared that they would have to sedate him, and that he may still pass away. I always fear the worst. Having experienced so much lose in my life, sometimes its hard to think that everyone around me will not leave, but will stick by me.

H and I did not speak much at all whilst he was in work, and I dreaded him coming home. How could he not see the love I had for him? I love him so much it hurts, and I would do anything for him to know it.

My dad was taking small steps in the right direction day by day, and soon he was on a general ward. He still found it hard to communicate, and would sit next to his bed and look at the birds out the window. He is only 47, he looked about 67.

I took J into see my dad, as I had seen such an improvement in him I thought it as time. They had both been asking to see each other, and my dads speech was a lot better. "What floor is he on mummy?" J asked. "He's on ward C1 babe, so that means he's on the first floor" I replied. J looked puzzled. We walked through the corridors of the hospital. He turned to me and said "I thought he would be on the top floor, being that he's the illest". This made me smile. Like as if there is a hierachy in hospital and the people most likely to die are located at the top. At least I had some reassurance that J now thought that his Bampi must not be as ill as he once thought. The innocence of a child can brighten even the darkest places.

I can't quite remember when H realised, or changed his outlook on our relationship, but he did. He was willing to put his accusations (as thats all they were) behind himself, and give us another shot. I thanked the Lord. I could not cope if I lost him.

With Christmas around the corner, I had a lot to sort out. My dad. My husband. The children. And my mum, who found herself to be a single woman this year. I had to make it extra special for all. Who knows where we'll all be next Christmas, this year has proved that!

ROCK BOTTOM CAN CRACK

Even though, at times, I can still feel the coldness of rock bottom as I'm only dangling a few feet from it, I didn't actually realise things could actually get worse! And as I drop, my back cracks the cold stone of rock bottom and I plummet lower!

Arguments with H are never easy. My life, so it seemed at the time, was the worst it could have been! Accusations of being a cheat. They cut, they hurt, I bled! Maybe I say things at time without actually thinking of how the person on the receiving end thinks of it. A cheat I am not! And considering I was cheated on, badly, by my ex I just simply could not do that to someone I loved.

Amongst the accusational texts I had a missed call from a number unrecognised on my phone. "Nice try" I thought, I genuinely thought H had tried calling me off someone elses number to catch me out.

*BLEEP*
Aha, a voicemail. I called my mailbox, a mans voice spoke. "Kirsty, this is Uncle Tony". My stomach knotted, I knew what was coming but prayed it was something else. "Your dads had an accident, he's in intensive care. He went into a diabetic coma and was rushed in this afternoon after he was found" he said. I was choked, my eyes streamed and I could not breath. He's going to die!

I inhaled fast. I could not hide my fear. I thanked my uncle for calling, he was apologetic for baring bad news. I called my mum in a panic to come have the children for me. The children watched tv unaware of the trance I was in as I sat at the top of my stairs, rocking myself and crying hysterically. J came out as he could hear me crying "Get downstairs" I screamed at him. He scampered off, I felt awful but could not move or call to him.

If I call H now will he think I'm making this up for the sob story card?! I called him hysterically, I tried breathing to explain what had happened. I found it hard to say the words and broke down. H was granted a rail pass and said he'd get on the first train back to Wales. Did he care, or was he purely forfilling his husband role but with no feelings? The latter was my thought.

My mum turned up, she would not let me drive in the state that I was in. I text my friend to come look after the children so my mum could take me in.

Was my dad going to die?! Was my husband going to leave me?! I grasped to the side of the pit I was in "Please Lord, do not let me fall further" I thought.

My friend arrived, with trembling arms I hugged her. She reassured me best she could, and my mum guided me to her car. The fear inside me grew, but I was with my mum, she had seen me cry but now I had to be a big girl.

I saw the hospital, my stomach flipped and I thought I was going to faint. He was in there right now in a coma, on a ventilator! My mum squeezed my knee. I smiled at her with watery eyes.

She held my hand as I walked towards the hospital. We followed signs to ICU (Intensive Care Unit). We rang the bell, I have never been so scared in my life. We were not allowed in to see him as they were running tests. The nurse spoke to me but I heard nothing. I felt my mums arms around me, I felt numb, I responded as best I could.

We walked to the café, slowly. "Tea please mum" I said. She paid, I found a seat. We sat by the window, we were about 3 storeys high and could see the helicopter landing spot and A&E. I sipped my tea, the cleaner sang as she buffed the floor "...any dream will do...". Joseph and his technicoloured dream coat. I moaned to my mum about the cleaners horrendous voice, try to lighten the mood. My mum laughed but still looked at me with concern. I was hurting, but I knew she was too. Afterall she once loved this man. "He's going to be ok right?" I asked. "I don't know dear" my mother responded. She forced a smile at me, I forced one back.

After an hour, or maybe two, of waiting we were allowed in. Once again the nurse spoke as she led me to his bedside, I heard nothing. We haulted at the foot of his bed, the nurse explained what was happening to him, or what had happened and what they were doing with him. I heard nothing. I looked at my dads lifeless body on the bed. He had a towel wrapped around his head to keep him warm. He had pipes down his throat and tubes going in everywhere. The machinery around him was full of lights, sometimes it bleeped. Silent tears rolled down my face. I reached under the sheet to grasp his hand. His skin was as cold as ice. I looked at him, I looked at the machines. I looked at the towel wrapped around his head, I giggled. "If *H* was here he may mistake you as Taliban and shoot you dead" I whispered. H was on his way, I longed for his touch and reassurance.

My mother and I sat there just looking at him for a long time...

"Please be ok" I text my dads mobile phone.

A DARK CLOUD

The sun doesn't always shine in my life.

I'm not even quite sure how to write this post, or what to put in it to be honest. If I ramble I apologise!

When I'm happy I feel like I'm on top of the world and nothing can stop me! I feel more like me, and I can make jokes and laugh. A real laugh! Why can't I always feel that way!

H and I had a fantastic weekend. After three weeks apart it was so good to see him! I had craved his touch, his voice. I was so happy to sit on my sofa and snuggle up to my man. I was happy!

This may sound silly, but I felt so chuffed when H asked me to go to golf with him. He's always said he plays golf to get away from things to clear his mind. The things he used to have to get away from was me. The thought that he actually wanted to spend that time with me made me so happy. He said he'd hire a buggy and we'd drive around the course, and have some good chats. Secretly I knew he wanted to show off his golf skills, haha! But he wanted to spend time with me, serious time!

We drove up the windy road to the Celtic Manor. I'd dropped him off here before, but I'd never been excited for that. I was excited this time! I was dressed up in some navy trousers, pink Lyle & Scott jumper and a pink camp. I looked like a golfer, so at least I fitted in! Armed with a picnic I jumped into the buggy. Eeeek! This was going to be awesome! H played whilst I watched, beaming with smiles! We shared giggles, kisses and I helped him find his balls. His golf balls that is!! He only lost it once, on the first hole!

It got dark too fast, so we only reached the 16th hole. But those 4 hours were brilliant. Some H and I time that was so needed after three weeks of struggling without him.

He had a long weekend home, and didn't have to leave until the Tuesday. Now it's Wednesday. It's horrible sat here without him. It may have only been five nights with him home, but I enjoyed cooking his dinner. I enjoyed watching our programmes cwtched up on the sofa (cwtched is welsh, shall I say cuddled up on the sofa).

Now that I'm alone the dark cloud rolls in. I sit here with eyes filling up, and a trembling lip. Why is it that when I'm alone all I can think about is Afghanistan, and about how it will be when he's deployed in four months time.

When the dark cloud hangs over my head it's hard to smile, it's hard to be happy, to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Curling up in a ball sounds good, but I know I have to press on. Do the dishes, fix the kids lunches for tomorrow, and get myself to bed at a reasonable hour!

H sends me soppy text messages, and they do make me smile. After three and a half years of being together he still brightens my mood with just a text. He's my leaning post. The dark cloud has a sun shining behind it, that sun never goes, it only hides. It's trying to shine through. Maybe tomorrow it will blind me!

THE ONLY WAY IS UP

I suppose I have to tell H about my depression, as he will be wondering why I'm popping pills every day! I did not want him to think or feel that because of this he has to get back with me. I do not need sympathy and I want him to want to be with me, not to feel that he has to because he feels bad!

I rang him in tears, he sounded genuinely concerned. It was nice to hear that reaction in his voice, in an odd way. "I've been diagnosed with depression". Saying that out loud to a loved one did not sound right. I felt like a nutter! I explained everything to H. I also explained how I felt about the situation. "All I want is to be happy again, I really love you. I need you to want me, to love me. Please don't give me false hope just for feeling sorry for me".

"I've had a lot of time to think. I want to help you, I want to stick by you. I do love you. I've realised something, I've realised that I've fallen into a pit too. I just don't seem to care about much at all since Afghanistan. I mean, sometimes I care, but sometimes I feel nothing. I've spoken to one of the boys, who lost his marriage be use of this. This won't happen to us. We still have stepping stones, but at least we've both hit realisation." He really did care, I thought. Hearing those words was like music to my ears.

I started my medication. H wanted to come home to me there and then, unfortunately it was a Wednesday. When the day came that he came home, he kissed me. That's all I'd wanted, to feel that kiss! The only way was up!

As H and I walked across the stepping stones, holding hands and guiding each other, I waited patiently for the medication to kick in. Two weeks my doctor had said, it had been two weeks! The crying had stopped, but I could still feel the cold stone of the bare floor of rock bottom. H holding my hand warmed my body, but the anxiety within me sometimes took over my mind!

My follow up appointment was booked to see the doctor. I told him the crying had stopped, but I was very anxious about silly things, like going to church, going shopping. I felt sick when it came to things I had to do as routine. The doctor has upped my medication, doubled the dose!

Seven weeks on the medication.
I still have down days and moments of weakness. I've started crying at my desk in work. Sometimes I know what's triggered me off, sometimes I just cry. H has turned back into my rock. He knows I don't want sympathy, but he knows when to hold his comments and hug me.

H's next tour of Afghanistan is nibbling at my mind constantly. He's being sent out a month earlier now, and I feel stupid moaning, I feel stupid crying, but I can't help it. We make plans for when he returns, but the thought "what if" plays on my mind. I try to shake it off but it takes hold of me and I crumble.

H loves me, and I love him. We are back on the right path, and thankfully, together we are pulling each other through.

Think of a wonderful thought!

ROCK BOTTOM

Following my previous blog post, I am sure you're all fully aware that I struggled with adjusting to H being home on his last leave at home.

The Wednesday after this leave Family Day at camp was scheduled. I'd planned to stay with the only wife from the battalion that I was close to. I was excited to see her, but my mind was still confused as to how I felt about going to Family Day and putting on my smiles for everyone.

I drove the familiar route to the battalions previous barracks, as my friend (N) had not moved to the new location. I started my drive late, as I'd been working all day on the Tuesday. The route was tedious. I had driven it so many times I'm sure I could do it with my eyes closed! I set my iPhone to shuffle and linked it up to my car. I had been driving for a couple of hours when I reached Reading. My junction was coming up. The song changed, on came Snow Patrol - You Could Be Happy. My stomach did somersaults, and it was most definitely full of butterflies! The emotion and raw feeling of my relationship hit me. I held back the tears as I had the children in the back. Whenever I used to listen to this song I used to feel a bit smug, thinking that my relationship was perfect and nothing could take that away! How did I find myself in this current, so real, rut?! I felt like I want to drive to my husband and shake him. I had not spoken to him properly since he left to go back to work. I craved for some loving words, a loving text. All I wanted was a reminder that he did love me, and that I did love him. I knew the love was in me, but it felt suppressed. My mouth was dry and my body ached. That song, that album flooded my mind with the past. The perfect past. I could not pin point when we had started pushing each other away.

I got to N's house. All the emotion from hearing that song pushed to the back of my head. I was just being a drama queen, just being silly.

I was extremely anxious about seeing H, the children on the other hand were very very excited! Having never been to the new barracks it was stressful enough getting there. Time to put on my smiles! H gave me a kiss upon arrival, what had I been anxious about? The day went fabulously and we had a great laugh.

The day somehow turned sour. As N and I were getting ready to leave, H disappeared. I went to his room to see where he was. He sat on his bed watching Dragons Den, obviously annoyed at something, but what? 'Great, here we go' I thought!

It seemed that I had apparently had attitude and I was always moody. H continued to say that I am never happy anymore, and refused (in his drunken state) to walk me and the children to the car. My blood boiled. How dare he ruin my perfect day? I could not see in any way that I had been in a bad mood or had attitude.

I stayed with N that night again. After putting the boys to bed we stayed up and chatted. I cried. My mind and sanity was fragile and I had no idea what was going on with my relationship. I worked myself up into such a state that I made myself ill, drained and deflated. My energy levels pointed at zero.

Still in a state of confusion I drove back to Wales. Having not spoken to H my situation had not been made any clearer in my mind. Things went from bad to worse. After a night out with a friend, H came home in a horrid frame of mind. I had sat up all night crying, not knowing what was going on or what was to come.

I wanted to talk, I needed to talk. It seemed that H was not quite ready to talk, or even that he wanted to. I felt sick with worry, and anxiety. My mind was racing at 100mph. Before I knew it I found his wedding ring in my hand, and I heard the words "We've tried, and we've been through this so many times. It's not working. You're not the girl I fell in love with, you're miserable all the time".

I could not breathe! What? How? Why? My head spun.

For the rest of the weekend I stayed out of his way. What could I say? I was convinced he was a nutter, delusional! Of course I was happy. It was him! The time came for him to go back to work. I was too upset, too hurt to attempt to rectify anything. I was numb. We both agreed that we needed space. He needed time to reflect and see that he is the one with the problem. How dare he think this was me! We decided on no contact unless necessary. Reflection does not need to be clouded over with negative thoughts or desperate words. He hugged me before he left. I did not want to let go, in fear that this may be the end and this may be my final hug. I did love him, extremely. I just had no idea what was going on.

He left. I cried. Then I cried some more.

I was convinced that H would reflect and see his errors and would come back. I had to hold onto something, and that was my something. I could feel the love inside me heating up. It was still there, I knew it was, but had H's gone out?

Days passed and I continued to cry. I cannot describe this feeling other than numb. If I wasn't crying, I was empty. He made me whole, could he not see this? I went into work, I cried. I had not eaten properly for days, almost a week. I could not sleep. I was empty and numb, surely I had no tears left to cry? They continued to come.

People started to worry. I started to worry. What was going to happen? It had been almost a week now. I still could not eat, restless nights became the norm. I had had enough, but refused to call H in fear that I would push him further away.

I decided to reflect myself. I tried clearing my mind of the emptiness. Sounds silly right?

I sat there and realisation hit me. I was miserable all the time. I cannot remember my last day of feeling happy. Had a slowly sunk into this dip? I felt like such a fool. "Go and reflect" I'd said. "You need help" I'd said. "Just admit it's you, you have a problem" I'd said.

Suddenly I realised I needed help. Maybe it was me. I knew it was a definite that I needed help sleeping. My mind raced. I spoke to a friend. It was time to get someone elses point of view, someone else who knows first hand how I am feeling. I was still numb. My body was lifeless.

I telephoned the doctor, in hope of an appointment. 'If I could get one decent nights sleep' I thought. Sat in the waiting room I felt a bit silly. I felt fine. Why was I going to the doctors? I'm going to come across as a nutter if I go in there and there's nothing wrong with me. I had not cried all morning. There was nothing wrong with me.

My name came up on the screen. In I went. At the first question my eyes filled up. I tried to talk. I had felt like this for so long that it was hard to believe I had a problem, that it wasn't just the way I was. The doctor was excellent. Talked me through everything. Most he knew, due to my previous breakdown in the doctors chair with a different doctor merely a few months before. After a quick assessment, a few questions, a few more tears and trembling voiced answers, the doctor realised this was not a recent change. I had depression. My problem is that I am so used to being able to put my smiles on. I exhaust myself. Unfortunately by doing this I had managed to push the people closest to me away. It was time to accept help!