At first I felt sick, lost. The world wasn't as I thought it was. It had to be my fault. I'd been told that often enough.
I couldn't sleep and then I slept too much. Day and night dissolved into nightmare. I tried to plan the future and, however I did the sums, I couldn't afford it.
The lawyer made it less exceptional. I was angry now. I couldn't forgive the cruelty, lies, deceptions that lasted years, the way I was always held to blame. (Was I to blame?, I asked myself and somewhere, in the back of my mind, I thought it was all my fault.)
Worst of all was seeing the children, whitely