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At 2am, when the house was quiet and sleep wouldn't come, one woman opened her notes app and started writing.

What followed was a letter to her partner — part plea, part confession, part attempt to put words to feelings she'd been carrying for years. She detailed one of the loneliest experiences that comes with being in a long-term relationship.

She sent her words to Mamamia.

This is her letter.

***

Where are you?

Are you still here?

Have you checked out?

I'm lying in bed next to you tonight, trying to sleep with severe stomach aches from anxiety, a head full of overwhelming but honest thoughts, a child crying about not attending school, and your snoring that I've worried about and hoped you would get checked because it affects both of us.

Watch: The women quietly quitting their husbands. Post continues below.

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The women quietly quitting their husbands | MMOL

I wonder if you're here.

Life is hard right now for both of us, but in the last few years, I've often felt like I've been carrying the roles of parent, cleaner, emotional support person, and partner while feeling disconnected and unseen in return.

I find myself wondering how parenting feels for you now that the easy, playful stages of childhood are changing. I wonder if staying connected with the kids has become difficult.

I find myself wondering whether loving me has become harder because of everything we're carrying. I know I cry. I know I put a lot of energy into trying to help the kids and work through challenges, often through conversations and seeking support. I feel that the difficulties between you and our eldest have become so painful that it's hard for either of you to have a calm conversation.

I just don't understand.

Do you want a life together?

Do you want to be his dad?

Do you love him?

Parents don't have a cut-off age, do they?

I find myself confused about how we understand our son's ADHD and autism, and I want to know how you see his experiences and behaviours.

Do you understand him?

Do you want to?

I worry about our middle child and how he's coping as he grows.

I want to know if you genuinely want to understand them when you talk with them.

Our daughter cries about school. I want someone beside me to talk about it with. I don't need everything fixed, but I want an understanding of what those mornings feel like for me, or simply a shoulder to cry on.

I've had some of the worst weeks lately. I've been in bed, sleeping, drinking, and struggling. On those hard days, I try to tell you how I'm feeling, and when those conversations don't seem to land, I feel even more alone.

It's not a fight.

It's truly a cry for help. A cry for understanding. A cry to tell you that I'm kind of losing it.

I want to know what help looks like to you.

Do you want to take on a bit more when I'm feeling horrible?

Every woman can relate to the painful questions asked. Image: Getty.

When I'm deep in depression and surrounded by washing, bins, mess, and responsibility, I sometimes feel hurt and overwhelmed when I'm left alone with those feelings while everyone else is out enjoying the day.

I carry a lot of pain around how I see myself and my contribution to our family. Sometimes I feel judged or as though the years I've spent at home raising our children are not valued.

And yes, there were parts of that life that were nice, and I am grateful.

But now I find myself questioning my worth and whether I am still valued and supported as your partner.

This isn't an attack.

It's a question.

Do you want to be their dad?

Do you want to help me be better?

Do you want to be here?

Do you respect me?

Have I hurt you?

Are you having a hard time and just can't communicate it?

We both know where this will probably go.

I'm afraid it will be seen as starting a fight.

I tell myself often that I'm lucky to live in this home and have what we have.

And I do tell myself I'm lucky. People tell me I'm lucky.

But I still don't know...

Are you here?

Do you want to communicate?

Listen: We unpack the idea of weaponised boundaries and explore how to tell whether yours are healthy gates or rigid walls. Post continues below.

I know it's hard for you. I can see that.

I understand your frustrations and your exhaustion because you have done so much.

But if I didn't love you and our family, why would I spend every day using what little energy I have left trying to understand how to make you enjoy your life and your kids?

I just need to know if you're still here with us, or if you're feeling as disconnected as I am and don't know how to say it.

If you or anyone you know needs to speak with an expert, please contact your GP or in Australia, contact Lifeline (13 11 14), Kids Helpline (1800 55 1800) or Beyond Blue (1300 22 4636), all of which provide trained counsellors you can talk with 24/7.

Feature: Canva.