I feel drained. Not because of Christmas or all the work that goes with it, but because of Tom.

The more time I spend in his company, the more exhausted I feel. He’s was here most of Christmas Eve including sleeping over that night so he could see Annie open her presents. He was here all day yesterday and then this morning I woke to a text saying he was coming over to make Annie breakfast. He’s been here more or less ever since other than to monopolise Jasper, insisting on taking him out for two long walks because he thinks he’s the expert on what my dog needs.

He tries to take over every aspect of my life. My dog, my home, my children, what we watch on my TV when he’s here. Why am I still allowing this fucking shit to go on three and a half years after I left him? I’m actually sitting in my bedroom writing this while he is sitting on my fucking sofa, watching my fucking TV with my dog on his fucking lap.

Could this be any more ridiculous?

The older kids don’t want him here; I’m not even sure Annie does so really he’s here because I’m too cowardly to tell him no.

That is the bottom line.

I still won’t stand up to him because of possible repercussions; because of his mood, his anger, his shouting, of how it will affect Annie and of how it could affect all of us.

Margaret said to me recently that I have to get him out of my life and she’s right. I know I do; I just don’t know why I hold back on doing that, and why I pretend to myself that it’s ok for him to still be in our lives almost as much as he was before I left him.

I cannot do another year of this shit.