When my husband left town my girlfriend and I decided to break into my house.  I kicked a basement window in, which was quite therapeutic at the time.  We lowered her son through the window into the basement and he made his way to the garage.  The only door that wasn't barricaded was the side door into the garage.  He let us in and we proceeded to unbarricade the doors.  My friend helped me to cover the broken window with some wood.  My daughter and I moved back into our house.

The next day was a Monday and I had to work the next day so I was in my pyjamas and housecoat when I heard a knock on the door.  I looked through the window to see a friend of my husband's.  I told him to go away.  He did and he phoned the police to say there was an intruder in the house.  The police arrived at 10:30 pm, my daughter and I were in bed.  I let them in and told them what had happened and that it is not a crime to break into your own house.  They agreed with me but still wanted to see identification and proceeded to walk through the entire house to see what was going on.  They also called off the canine team that had been called in response to a break in with suspect still in the house.  Nice.

I understand why they did what they did but it was humiliating to have to show my ID to prove that I could be in my own house.  It was embarrassing to have police cars lined up outside my house, again.  And then one cop wanted to know how big the house was and how big the yard was and when it was going on the market.  Again, I understand, the police see a lot of domestic disputes and why not get a heads up on a nice house that will be going onto the market soon.

I spent the next two weeks living in fear of the day my husband returned.  I packed up every single thing of his into boxes, labelled them and stacked them in the garage.  What I really wanted to do was to set fire to them on the driveway but I didn't.  I had the locks changed back to the old locks.  He cut off my telephone so I had a new telephone line set up and I waited. 

I got really sick and two days before my husband was to return.  I was still terrified and my wonderful girlfriend came over to protect me and to talk to my husband.  It was her that showed my husband where all his stuff was.  I'm still thankful for that Daphne.


I was talking to a friend at work the other day about how much I have been reliving the past these last few months.  It frequently pops into my head and swims around, demanding my attention.  The past is haunting me right now and she feels it has to do with my upcoming marriage.  She's probably right.  The big guy asked me this morning why I wrote what I wrote in my last post.  It's time to put away the past and move forward.  For me, I have to get it out of my head and the easiest way for me to do that is to write it down.