Woe is me

Warning... long, self-indulgent, self-pittying post. Please don't read on if your emotional plate is full. Self pitty is completely contra to my normal mantra, but a huge vent is needed. Recently I turned 40. This year I had all my ideas about mortality and life thrown under a bus. Not necessarily a bad thing, as I'm coming to understand the importance of looking after myself instead of taking on the problems of others and muddling through life taking care of everyone else but. I had a tit lopped off (Marg's @Zoffiel descriptive words). I endured 6 rounds of heavy duty chemo, hair loss, weight gain, 30 zaps of rads, tamoxifen, palbociclib.... All the while pushing and struggling to keep a normal pace for my 2 kids (2 & 5) and keep a brave face whilst my narcisistic, drug addicted partner of 20+ years repeatedly left me in the lurch and emotionally, verbally and psychologically abused me. I powered on, as that's what mothers do, with the thought that I can leave when I'm healthy enough and there'd be plenty of legal support for me. Well, turns out because he's not bashing me, and he can plausibly deny abuse as I have no 'evidence' I can't do much to protect myself, or more importantly, my kids if I leave. The system sucks. I'm so angry and disappointed and just sad, which is not like my usually optimistic self. I have plenty of support in the way of a listening ear, psycholigist, family, church, but NO practical help. Anyway, vent done. I will now dust off, pick myself up and figure this out, as I always do. Can't bring me down, baby. Oh, and he completely failed to acknowledge my bday whatsoever. What a winner!