Dear God,
Sharon Graves Grover "researched" me .... Now, I've researched her: husband, Reginald and 3 grown daughters.
How does the side-bitch research the wife? Why? She was curious ... What did she expect to find? Did she think about ... what if this was done to me ... vindictive ... that's what she called me ... I had the propensity to be vindictive ... I sent her husband and daughter's the text messages.
Called JoAnn. Let her know Sean didn't move to Florida ... he still here in Jackson.
The names change: Stephanie, Liza, Alice, JoAnn ... it remains the same. All believing Sean is single.
Went to church, came home. And it was on .... I'm so angry about the betrayal, the lies, the lack of compassion.
Sean spat in my face .... twice.
Anger ... cause I contacted Alice and Joann. He promised Alice I wouldn't contact her husband ... she can text and whatever and more with mines ... unchecked.
He took the cable from me. Told me to get the rest of my clothes out of the master bedroom. He dumped my clothes on the floor. Sean told me not to move the dresser guest room where I've been sleeping. He watched me move it by myself to Miles' room. Stood there and watched.
He kept on running his mouth. I threw away the plate dinner from McDade's. The name calling. I emptied his medication on the floor. His stuff. Sean hates to have his "stuff" violated. If you could care for me half as much.
Sean called the police. Wanting one of us to leave ... Sean refused. I refused. Then the talk of going to jail. Sean said it was okay with him ... just to see me go. Hell no, not again. I left. I will always leave from now on. He said he had nothing to lose. He would go to jail to ruin my life.
What kind of sick shit is that?
He's a punk ass bitch. Not a soldier. Not a protector. Not a husband. Not a friend.
God, if this is the place where I am suppose to be ... then, please chasten and change Sean's heart. If not, please open a door so I may leave with everything restored.
I thank you God for all things. Thank you for my Lord Jesus, the Christ.
My diary of turning 50 in 2011, losing weight gained after an automobile accident and hopefully finding love. In 2014, I tested positive for the BRCA gene and had to have a preventative mastectomy. In 2015, married. What does it look like to be married to PTSD? CRAZY! SCAREY!!