<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[Punchdrunkmom]]></title><description><![CDATA[The Story]]></description><link>https://www.anunreliablenarrator.com/blog</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Tue, 10 Nov 2026 16:04:08 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://www.anunreliablenarrator.com/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[Fragile Decor]]></title><description><![CDATA[I brought some boxes from the storage facility last week, and among them was the first box Scott dropped on that fateful Saturday. As I walked past it, I thought, "This is the box that cost Scott his marriage." I feel like this was the first time I attributed the end of the marriage to Scott's terrible behavior. He so cavalierly dropped that box, labeled "Fragile Decor."  I told him not to load up the car in the state he was in, then dismissed my concern with that contemptuous "Who Cares?!"...]]></description><link>https://www.anunreliablenarrator.com/post/fragile-decor</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6af20d73c2ee3e3a7f315fbf</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Nov 2026 02:09:25 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>megan21087</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Boxes]]></title><description><![CDATA[Editor's note (I'm the editor): What follows is the account of the last day of my marriage. Not the last day we were married, but the last day there was any possibility of being married. You are starting the story in medias res, so I'll just engage in a little exposition: my husband told me that we were being forced to sell our home or go into foreclosure. We'll get into all of that, of course, but this is the account of us (me) starting to get the house ready to sell. There's one thing that...]]></description><link>https://www.anunreliablenarrator.com/post/the-boxes</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a677aac388acffd1e3b7b7b</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Nov 2026 02:06:52 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>megan21087</dc:creator></item><item><title><![CDATA[Picking up the mess]]></title><description><![CDATA[I woke up today feeling slightly more refreshed than I had since the fight over the boxes. I had felt exhausted, nerves jangling, eyes burning, anxiety sitting on my chest and belly like a rock for days, the emotional hangover from watching my abuser abuse me in real time. There are some potential explanations as to why I was feeling more rested, less defeated. Time, of course, that balm for all wounds (is it?) and that I'd paid off my sleep debt from the weekend. I had also had a...]]></description><link>https://www.anunreliablenarrator.com/post/picking-up-the-mess</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a6b79483e0c16484fefbfb9</guid><pubDate>Fri, 31 Jul 2026 01:40:43 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>megan21087</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>