Recovery

I've been cured of two ailments this week.
Firstly, the nasty RedBack spider bite whose venom was draining through my lymphatic system and turning my whole arm into an enflamed, swollen roadmap of envenomed veins.
A round of antihistamines cured that little affliction nicely, while my second illness - love of my lousy ex-husband - has been a little harder to shake.

Why isn't there a pill for that eh? Imagine if you could patent a 'getoverit' pill?
Fuck, it would completely outstrip rohypnol in the drink spiking stakes, I'm thinking.
Imagine being able to feed one of those to your ex.

I woke up the other night and suddenly there'd been a shift in my head.
All the wonderful, lovely things about our life had been shuffled to the background, and in the front was all the reasons I DIDN'T want to see him again.
All the nasty comments, the unreliable moments, the sad, angry exchanges, the disappointments and loss of trust.
And now, watching him rewrite our life, like it stopped being good on a single day makes me want to scratch his eyeballs out and feed them to him through his rectum.

So, instead, I'm going to go back to my falling-down crapbox house on a hill - that I love, and will take YEARS to get up to dinner-party-with-new-friends standard and raise chickens (if the snakes don't get them) and vegies (if the rabbits don't get them) and my babies (if the farmers don't get them).
I'm looking forward to starting my study, that sounds cool, and I'm going to have to take writing seriously and try and get a novel published...because I can't live with an orange kitchen and an avocado green missionary brown bathroom for too long.
At the moment, I need to take my contacts out before I go for a shower so that theclashing colours don't send me spiralling down into depression again.

Only two more weeks and then school starts and my life is back on track - without money, without a partner, but without a whole lot of fucking hassles as well.