An Exhausted Housewife’s Journal

I wasn’t like this—drinking, crying, hating myself and everything that breathed around me.

Every time I try to dig myself out of this hole, something drags me back in.

I wanted to tell him about the million evil things he did to me internally, but it meant nothing if he never listened. He would put up this wall and shut me out as if I never existed. I despised him for that. For thinking I didn’t deserve his precious time.

He made me like this. He stopped being the man I met eight years ago. He stopped being…him—sweet, loyal, caring, attentive….

All the late nights and days of coming home smelling like another female’s perfume. And though he said that most of his clients were females and it was bound to rub off at some point, I wanted to believe that. I wanted to believe everything he said, but my heart knew different.

He tells me that I’m being paranoid and jealous, and maybe I was because there wasn’t any physical evidence, but I knew. I felt it. The deceit, the lies, the affairs…I felt them deep within my soul.

No amount of gifts, or clothes, or luxury trips made me forget that.

How was I to confront these feelings when he barely entertained me? When he was busy with clients, busy with work, busy being…busy?

I was nothing but a mere object—a medal he won to show off to his friends. I detest what I had become for him. I was so much more before this. But my love for this man is relentless. He is my rock, my sole provider, and the other piece of my heart. He completes me.

Maybe if I worked harder to love him, he would truly see that I was the only one meant for him. But this wasn’t a one-man show—we both had to come together to make this work.

It had to work. It must work.

Our anniversary would be up soon, and I think planning some time alone should definitely work.

And if all else fails…

I don’t even want to think about it.


Sacha’s journal prior to The Cabin. Read The Cabin now on Amazon. Available in Ebook and Paperback format. Select the photo below.

Thanks for reading!

Freebie Alert! Who Doesn’t Want Free Stuff?

Okay, so let me be frank. This was not clickbait. You are actually getting something for free.

For everyone who wanted to get my book and didn’t want to pay for it…(I know it’s like that sometimes. Heck, I’m like that.) The Cabin is yours to take, for a limited time only.

Yes! I said it. FREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Fahreee!

Only the Ebook though, because…well, we know paperbacks are in a category by themselves. With printing costs and all.

Select the picture or here to be redirected to the Amazon page of your country.

This promotion runs from 22-26 July 2021. So, if you know, you know. Download the thing and read it a month later or whenever. At least you got it.

And as always, when you’re finished reading it, leave a review. Feedback is nice…(and depressing) but let’s not get into that. The Cabin is there for your taking.

Thanks for reading. Until next time boo.

Writer’s Block is the Devil

I’m not going to make this long. And I’m sort of a hypocrite for writing this because somehow I’ve gotten the zeal to rant about this and not write one shit today in any of my started stories.

Honestly, the zeal isn’t there. The past two weeks I set alarms and reminders to write stuff on my Editor Site and I’d done only fifteen hundred (1500) words. Yes, fifteen hundred. Ugh…

What is wrong with me?

Nothing. That’s it. Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. Maybe there’s some external force over my shoulder saying to write it. Do it. Finish it, witch. But really and truly I don’t want to.

At least not yet.

If I force myself, the writing may just be crappy, or robotic and gray . . .

Ew.

Writer’s block is the pinhole and I just can’t get the darn string through.

But one of these days . . . One of these dry, musty and hot days when I’m sitting in front of my laptop staring at the few words I’ve written, I’ll lick that damn string and push it through.

For now, I’m examining the pinhole, or what everyone else calls it— brainstorming and plotting weird stuff.

Writer’s block isn’t actually the devil, it’s just your brain telling you to wait on the right time to write.

This is what I’m going with. This will make me sleep better at night. 🙄

So whatever.

Thanks for reading my rant. See ya boo.