Country Carrie // all that jas.

I've always felt the call to share. I've always had so much to say.

My whole childhood I was told to shut up.

This blog is my healing journey & my inner child giving the adults in my life the finger, with a smile.

 

I've always been one to push boundaries. I've always had inner confidence or self-belief. I'd give anything a crack, talk to anyone, and no idea of mine was too crazy to achieve.

 

Then life humbled me.

I allowed this to be taken from me. I was a shell of myself. I was broken down and ripped apart. I gave up all my power. I lost everything that made me me.

 

4 years ago I started a secret Instagram account for single married mums. Pretty self-explanatory, right? A married woman doing it on her own. Raising the kids, holding a job, running a business, the house, the yard, the finances, the errands, and carrying the mental load. I started it when my husband, my best friend and father of my now 4 boys, the only man I ever knew, literally abandoned me.

He left me alone, broke, and pregnant with our 4th boy during the first round of the COVID pandemic.

 

The account went viral in the USA, and I freaked out.

I had always stayed anonymous on the account. I was far too embarrassed to tell anyone in my real life what I was going through, so this was a healthy way, I thought, to document what was happening. Plus, I always knew I would have a comeback story, and this was a way to look back at how far I came.

 

How do you start writing everything that just happened to you?

 

How do you even begin to put into words the most traumatic thing that has ever happened to you?

 

I feel like this has been a series of unfortunate events

(Felt more like a stage 4 cyclone hitting your hometown with only months before the next one, and the only reprieve is the break in between where you live in a traumatic state of fight or flight, barely surviving.

 

Add in a newborn, a toddler, 2 pre-teens, and a global pandemic which indefinitely closed your business you spent a decade building. Your husband left you 4 days postpartum; before that, he was missing for days, weeks, sometimes months at a time. Emptied your bank accounts, blew 100k+ in inheritance, 30k on a betting app in a matter of weeks, started to get paranoia, which I'm sure was caused by drug or alcohol use, not sleeping or sleeping at cemeteries in the camper van he bought because he was convinced I hurt him in his sleep, poisoning his food, cheating etc. The boys spotted him on our way to school one day. He would randomly come back to see our boys, but probably more to shower, eat, wash clothes, or would sleep for days. He grew a beard, lost weight, and looked sick.

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I found a Harley Davidson motorbike in my shed, and then there was the houseboat I found out he bought via an eBay email chain while at the beach with my 4 boys, which later sunk, uninsured. I was notified of this from a Facebook message that a member of the public spotted a sinking boat. I'm sure there was an Audi in there too that he crashed. There was an overseas holiday he went on to follow some woman he met online while I'm making a payment plan for my electricity account and begging him to come back and see the boys.

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All this was happening and I was healing from a traumatic birth, alone, with a sick newborn, carrying the load of parenting 4 boys alone, a broken heart, and in what could only be described as a living nightmare.

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I look back now, and I can't even believe I went through this alone.

I didn't reach out for help. I was so ashamed and embarrassed that this was happening to me.

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I was in a state of shock, and that's how I lived for the next 2 years.

In a frozen state. Going through the motions of keeping 4 little boys alive. Each hour on the clock would mean a different task for me to achieve. 6 pm would come around, and I knew that I made it, everyone would be asleep, and I could finally cry.

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So that's what I did from 6 pm till usually 2-3 am. Just ugly cry. As quiet as I could for 2 years.

That is just part of the story.

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My laptop is on 7%. If I don't hit publish now and walk away, I'll never do this.

I started to feel guilty for going 'public' with what he did to the boys and I but then I remembered, that Mother Fucker Left us for dead.

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I know my story will help someone else. So fuck it. Here goes into the abyss.

 

More to say,

need to go walk this off.

All that jas x

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p.s I write this as  I live my fairytale dream ending. I cant wait to share jx