25 Years Ago, He Moved Abroad… Stress and Anxiety Led to My Cancer Battle

Twenty-five years ago, my husband went abroad Stress and worry gave me cancer.

Hello. Ive hesitated for a long time about whether to share my story, but perhaps someone will read it and think twice Maybe someone will recognise themselves in it, or another person might avoid the mistakes I made.

I want to remain anonymous, but I need advice. Just another perspective.

I married for love
I was young when I fell for him. Id just turned eighteen, and he was twenty-two. It was a deep, pure love, full of trust. We believed we could overcome anythingthat nothing was too hard as long as we were together.

A year after our wedding, our son was born. I was happy then but not for long. Hard times followed. Money was tightmy wages were low, and his salary barely covered the bills. We lived simply, like many families, but my husband thought it wasnt enough.

*”Ill go abroad. The pays better therewell have a better life,”* he said one day.

I begged him not to go. Told him wed manage. Plenty of couples get through tough times together. He wouldnt listen.

I was left alone with our child.

Years passed.

I kept hoping hed come back, but he didnt want to. Said he could earn more overseas. That just a little longer, and everything would be fine.

I pleaded with him to stay. There was work here nowI was earning too. My parents helped with our son. We couldve lived like everyone else But he wouldnt return.

With just one child, I wanted anotherdreamed of a big familybut he refused.

*”Theres no money. Feeding one is hard enough.”*

But he didnt even want to be around for the one we had. Hed visit for a week or two, then leave again.

I raised our son alonewent to parents evenings, sat up with him when he was ill. I never told my husband when the boy was sickdidnt want to worry him and he never asked.

Still, he didnt come home
If hed made a fortune, if wed lived in luxury, I mightve said, *”It was worth it.”* But he didnt. The money barely covered a decent life.

There were still loansfor the roof, the car, a new washing machine. Like everyone else.

I tried explaining, more than once, that money wasnt everythingthat our son needed his father, that I was exhausted but he wouldnt listen.

He lived there. We lived here.

The years rolled by.

Twenty-five years passed.

He came back.

But not with savingswith debts.

I sold my grandmothers house to cover some of what he owed. He thanked me, said he loved me, that wed finally be together.

But at what cost?

Too late
Youd think this was the peaceful harbour Id waited for. My husband home at lastno travelling, no drinking, no wandering Youd think Id be overjoyed.

But suddenly, I realised I couldnt breathe in my own home.

To keep the peace, I had to erase myself.

I stopped seeing friendshe didnt like them. Said since he had no friends, I didnt need any either. He never forbade it, but the way he looked at me killed any desire to go out.

I stopped dressing nicely. He disliked bright clothes, makeup, high heels. Said they werent fitting for a woman our age.

I stopped laughing, stopped telling jokes, stopped dreaming.

I existed. Worked. Cleaned. Cooked. Slept.

Once or twice a year, wed go on holiday. Just the two of us, of course. No friends, no company. Because he didnt like people.

And I endured it all. Every bit.

But my body couldnt take it
The grind, the constant tension, the lonelinessit crushed me.

I fell ill.

The diagnosis was grim. Cancer.

My world collapsed in an instant.

I dont know how much time I have left.

But I know thisif I could turn back time, I wouldnt live this way again.

Id never have let myself become a shadow.
Id never have let my husband dictate my life.
Id never have sacrificed myself for the illusion of family.