Voicemail from Hell 2.
I don't have a date for this one. Sometime between May 2019 and May 2020 I remember it very well, and that's a good thing. My son doesn't have any recordings and so he rants at me about his dad, and that has been dragging me, metaphorically, over and through broken glass. And about an hour ago I reached breaking point and let myself fall into it - into the howling pain of it. So I needed to remember. To get myself back I've plugged in my headphones, dragging up old sound files to know what was said to me. When I remember how bad it was, then any sense of loss and grief is drowned out by the truth. In October 2019 I identified the prime emotion of this time - it was terror. May seem inexplicable, like how could I have felt that way, why wasn't it sadness or anger? I can't tell you. I don't know - but terror was the flavour of that year , something so terrible, erosive about the lying? Possible. Losing trust in myself was the most damaging part, the way he...