There are times when I still grieve for the loss of my family life, for my children’s future and for the death of my marriage. I sometimes still struggle to deal with the brutal downgrading of my hopes and dreams and the quiet “yes” in answer to my question “are you having an affair?”, that snapped my world in two. That word changed the course of my whole life, creating a divide between the life I knew before they were spoken and the altered life beyond. Whoever said “sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me” was talking bollocks.
It is generally after a child-free weekend that I can feel a bit empty and sad. Yes, married friends can tell me how lucky I am to get a lie-in or a day to myself to read the papers or go for a pub lunch, but I miss my children and the lovely chaotic mess they make and I miss having a partner around. It must be horrible for my ex to have to live alone all week in such a quiet and empty house. Which is why I refuse to wallow in self-pity – there are of course many more people in the world in a far worse place than me. I, at least, have children to miss.
I have just had such a weekend. I went out with some girlfriends for a lovely meal on Friday night and drinks out on Saturday night (choosing to avoid the sad invitation to go and pick up disappointed rugby fans in a local rugby pub). However, I really do feel as if I have exhausted what I call the “desperate” phase (more like it has exhausted me). It is not good.
I went through that phase immediately after separating from my husband and it nearly killed me. I have never known such stress. You begin, in your misery to explore your options. New depths. New paths. You find girlfriends that encourage you to “live a little” recognising that what is needed is a touch of confidence. One girlfriend (a veteran divorcee) made the analogy of me sitting by the edge of a swimming pool dipping my toe in, whilst she and various others were all splashing about having fun in the pool, encouraging me to jump in.
All that pent up rage I mentioned earlier eventually abates, allowing something else (still burning) to take it’s place. A sort of passion, a recklessness, a deep desire to venture out into the bigger world, to redefine yourself, to feel alive. This is a dangerous phase to be in (unless of course you are the object of Mrs Robinson’s desire – then it is bloody great – sex with an angry woman is an opportunity not to be missed). You start to take risks and generally behave in a ridiculous manner and nearly have to be checked into a psychiatric hospital or The Priory. What is interesting though is that there are men who can recognise the signs. You suddenly start getting attention. Why is that? You don’t think you are behaving in a different way but you are either giving off pheromones or there is a sticker on your head saying “vulnerable” woman or you have suddenly turned on some sort of (red) light.
“Take all your chances while you can,
You never know when they’ll pass you by.”
Athlete. (That is the name of one of my favourite bands, not a random sports person or a foot ailment).
Frankofile
March 9, 2008Rough times 🙁
GoneBackSouth
March 9, 2008Sounds to me like you’re doing all the right things – including writing all this down which must be good therapy. You’re on a journey … keep going … you never know what you will find 🙂
DMM
March 10, 2008Keep that chin up. I hate not having LM around. However, I keep terribly busy – with 2 jobs and studying – however the studying has come to a glorious end.
But still, I miss him something awful when he’s not under my feet screaming HEY MOM where are you…
zoe
March 10, 2008Lulu, if anybody ever told you that divorce was a complicated, bitter and twisted thing, would you ever have even thought of getting married? Perhaps yes, with a seal-tight pre-nup, but even those don’t help the pain and the feeling of loneliness go away.
At least you have friends, and that is a Good Thing. I had one!
A Mother's Place is in the Wrong
March 10, 2008Dear Lulu, you are doing so well. Don’t let the bastards get you down! M xx