The state of the union in Juggling with Hedgehogs

I've been writing private entries for a while, getting it all out, sorting through everything, trying to get my head on straight, but I need to say a few things in public, because first and foremost, I need to be honest with myself, and to do that I need to be honest with everyone else as well.

I am not coping. Some days, I think I am. Some days, I think I'll get through this and be stronger on the other side, but then I have days when all I can think about is ending my life, and I go through the motions of talking to my children and telling them I'm OK and I'm lying, to them. Lying and lying, because I don't want to worry them, because if I do decide to end my life, the last thing I want to do is alert them that there is a problem, or that they need to be watching me.

I was going to say that I don't know why I'm so low again, but I do know. I told my husband I wanted no contact, and for the week that we did that, I was much better. But he wasn't, and neither was my son. The atmosphere in the house was caustic, and so I emailed my husband to ask him if he preferred it this way, or if he would rather we tried to keep things civil. He said he'd rather be able to talk, so, on our 21st anniversary (which wasn't acknowledged by either of us, other than the fact I had removed my wedding ring and engagement ring and was wearing them around my neck, and I had also removed our wedding picture from the living room wall), we cooked a meal together, ate it in silence, and I went to bed early after giving him a kiss and a brief hug.

It was just all so wooden and horrible, and I hated it and wished I hadn't bothered.

Last night, I went out on a date. Yes, I know it's too early, but forgive me for wanting to feel attractive again, and for wanting to find out if I can have a conversation with a man that isn't my husband, and who has come out for the specific purpose of treating me like a woman rather than a doormat. This man was younger than me by 12 years, very attractive, and very attentive, and I had a very nice time with him. Whether or not we will see each other again, I don't know, but for those few hours, I enjoyed myself.

But rather than making me feel better, it just threw into stark contrast the way my husband of 21 years treats me, the fact that he isn't anywhere near as attractive as the man I went out with, and yet he has the capability to make me feel like so much discarded rubbish. It just sent me spiralling downhill and last night I just cried all night long, didn't sleep a wink, and spent the night messaging a friend who also happened to be suffering from insomnia.

I've been advised to try and keep things going with my husband, show him that he's loved and still wanted and try to get him to change his mind and stay, but I'm beginning to wonder if that's what I really want. I thought it was, but the more time goes by, the more I think I'd be better off alone. That I was a fool to throw in my lot with someone to the extent that I'm completely dependent on them. I'm bigger than that, better than that, and apparently I'm still attractive enough for a younger man to want to spend his evening with me, making me feel special (even if it was in the hope that I'd open my legs for him later - which was never on the cards!).

So I spent the entire day in bed, Bridget Jones style, feeling sorry for myself and wishing I could just sleep. To that end, I am now drinking copious quantities of vodka, on top of my anti-depressant (which I'm not supposed to mix), and I'm going to take a sleeping pill later. Maybe more. I might just take the bloody lot, my doctor assured me they wouldn't kill me if I did, but I'd sleep for a very long time and wake up feeling crap. I don't care if it makes the days pass quicker and gets me through this vile hell I'm living in.

I'm sure this, like all things, will eventually pass. But right now, I hate living and I don't want to do it any more.