Flying home for a last NYC visit

Going home wounded to the core. Cleaning up the sewage of my past life. I chose an atrocious partner who would never lift a finger for others, and sustained this shit-show for 28 years, relying on sheer will and denial of my own needs.

Now I'm a wreck. Throwing out 2800 square feet of leftover junk is more than I can handle but I'm not good at delegating. I might fail. Will I get arrested for not vacating before closing day? Who comes to cart me away? I hope they're not bullies. I'm weak and do bruised already. I can't take any more punches after my shitty marriage.

As I’ve said, if I do succeed, the title of my book will be “How a survivor of an abusive marriage got from depression to broom-clean in 30 solo days:  a heroes journey.”

My ex will make the same immoral decisions for herself every day for the rest of her life. And will continue to ignore how much people like me hate her more than anyone on the planet. I won’t name names. We collectively direct our hatred right at your adrenal gland, where it’s doing it’s work, day in and day out.