We pulled out of the disaster spiral that was marriage-counselling-for-something-that's-not-a-marriage issue, and arranged a full afternoon session with us, my own therapist, and my mother in law.
It was fucking horrendous and I don't think I could ever do that again, but all is now out in the open and we have worked through husband's Big Feelings about it all. He wasn't actually mad at me, he was very upset and mad at other people. My mother in law is one of God's own angels.
So everything is going to be fine. Everything is fine. All cupboards now empty of skeletons, etcetera.
No one in my family of origin is going to cooperate with the police. I don't think they've even reported what happened. I am selfishly really glad because that means I don't have to engage with that process. I still think this is the wrong decision, at the end of a chain of terrible decisions. But I don't have to deal with them again.
I feel absolutely raw and helpless, and I fucking hate, hate, hate that. I feel like a child again.
My parents in law have purchased husband and I a long weekend in Rome "because it's been a tough year". God bless them, I don't know what I would do without them. They are very confident they can look after all the kids. We have decided not to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. I am looking forward to it. We haven't been away on our own for years, for obvious reasons.
As my therapist said: 'The worst has finally happened. Everyone you love is still with you. Everything that's important to you is safe. Your world hasn't ended. You can move on now.'
I just have to.... believe her?