Surving Divorce And Not Being A Melt

 Surviving Divorce 

Covid has been a right nob. In the middle of the pandemic my world fell apart.  My marriage was over.  Life as I knew it for 1/3 of my life would be no more.  How would I cope without the man of my dreams and the god he was?  How would I survive on my own… the tragedy.

Looking back, the pandemic just sped up the inevitable.  I thought I would never get over it.  There was no life outside the one I’d known.  Genuinely; the grief I felt for the next few months was worse than the death of my brother.  Many may think that’s insanity; many have not been in that position.  I am being completely honest… death was nothing on divorce.  Unless you’ve been there you simply cannot comprehend how cray-cray it makes you.  End of.

I cried down the phone to my friends, my GP; I broke down at work.  My GP told me that I was grieving, and that I was right; this would be harder than death because the person you have lost is still living and moving on without you.  How dare he!

I was physically sick.  I knew for a fact I wouldn’t ever get over him.  Ever.  That just wasn’t an option.

What I did have to do was go through the 5 stages of grief.  That’s an actual thing by the way.  Regardless of what the sceptics think.  

Denial 

During this stage I pretty much cried on the daily.  Drank wine.  Got thin.  Told my friends he would come back and see sense.  Wouldn’t take off my wedding ring.  I was a pathetic mess.  Seriously - it was embarrassing.  It didn’t matter how many people told me what a waste of space he was, I wasn’t having it.  I couldn’t believe it was happening. I withdrew from people and became really isolated.  I hid away and wouldn’t see anyone…. Have you seen The Aviator?  That was me.  Except I’m not rich and I don’t fly.

When I did speak to my friends, I ugly cried down the phone.  Cringe. Thankfully, my friends don’t beat around the bush; they told me straight up that they weren’t going to accept me crying over this person forever.  One even gave me a maximum of 6 months to wake up and realise what a goddess I was… thanks Tash haha.

I certainly don’t have a group of pity-party friends.  They were compassionate, but they weren’t going to let me self-destruct.  Not on their watch!

Anger / Pain

It was a physical pain. My heart physically hurt.  I was put on stronger medication for a heart condition as my body was physically reacting to the divorce and the stress.  It hurt to breathe sometimes!  I’m surprised I didn’t die of dehydration and a salt deficiency from all the tears I cried!

The anger.  Wow.  It is actually quite funny looking back.  In a kind of “psycho-crazy-woman-nutter way”…I actually SET FIRE TO THINGS.  Yep.  That’s right.  I burnt things and it felt amazing.  I even invited friends over to celebrate my anger.  I was so grateful for the huge fire pit at the end of my garden at that time. That distracted me and I don’t regret a single moment of fire.

I found an axe in the shed an smashed up wood in the garden.  God it felt amazing.  I screamed as loud as I could into a pillow a few times.  Got thinner.  Drank more wine.  

It’s amazing how channeling your anger into becoming an axe-wielding arsonist can really help!  God I miss that fire pit.

Bargaining

This was probably my most embarrassing stage.  I felt guilty for the anger.  I blamed myself… maybe I could have been a better wife?  If I changed maybe he would come back? Maybe if I just went along with everything he wanted and be compliant we could fix it?  Maybe if a didn’t get pissed off at the amount of golf shit and crap around the house all would be rosy…. Puke.  How dare I even question myself.  

I hate golf.  Golf is shit. 

Depression

That was hard.  Really hard.  I drank (kept the Texaco garage in business.) I cried.  I sang way to many shite renditions of This Woman’s Work by Kate Bush (thankfully my neighbours weren’t too close.) I watched Ghost twenty million times. Cringe. 

I was lonely and there was another lockdown to contend with.  That was a tough time.  I still found time to fake tan though, so at least I didn’t look as bad as I felt.  Botox also helped.  At least I didn’t look sad AND ugly.

I broke down at work one day as I felt I could not go on.  I was told by someone to stop making a scene (I was in a private area at the time.)  I look back and it sickens me that someone could say that.  I needed help but I didn’t know how to ask for it.  I didn’t want to show weakness and didn’t want to be judged.  It’s was obvious I was not myself though.  I was quiet.  That was enough to know I was not myself.  I don’t do “quiet.”

There was no reasoning with me at this time.  I was so up and down and everything in between.  I think I probably had a mental breakdown.  I didn’t act or say normal things.  I was so good at pretending to the world I was coping.  I wasn’t.  The whole of November 2020 was pretty much a blur.  I took medication, which made me feel worse.  I came off of it which made me feel worse still.  I drank more… got even thinner.  At this point some my friends were encouraging me to go out and “jump from dick to dick” to distract me…. Haha.  That’s was funny.  Dick was the last thing on my mind.

I couldn’t cope with the constant emails from solicitors. The prospect of having no home.  Ten thousand people that had never been in my position, yet wanted to offer advice I hadn’t asked for.  I prayed not to wake up.  I prayed to make the pain go away.  I just wanted myself and my children to be ok.  I have never felt so lonely in my life.  I never would have hurt myself, but I wished a bus would hit me so I didn’t feel how I felt anymore.  It turned out that some of the people I confided in the most ended up using that darkest part of my life against me months later.  Pretty nasty huh?

I would stare in the mirror and cry.  I just couldn’t figure out or process all the feelings I felt.  I didn’t want to burden my friends. They were still there.  They saved me.  No joke.  They did.

Acceptance

That came in December 2020.  I was sat on my sofa one evening thinking about how nice it was to just sit and have silence.  No arguing.  No drama.  Just quiet.  I put my daughter to bed and she smiled and said I was “the weirdest and funniest mum ever”… I thought “do you know what; I’m actually alright.”  

Don’t ask me how it happens less than 5 months after the end, but it did.  I was more alright than I had been in such a long time.  Why was I wasting my time on something that was never going to change?  Why was I allowing myself to think that he was more superior to me?  He wasn’t.  I was a strong woman.  I had got through crap in my life before and I wasn’t about to let this push me over the edge.  No bloody way. 

Strangely, my divorce became a lot easier from that point on…. Because I just stopped caring.  I nothinged him.  I cut off all direct contact with him.  If I could give one bit of valuable advice to anyone going through a divorce, it would be to not have unnecessary contact.  You don’t need to discuss who did what and reminisce on the past.  It’s over.  Stop slowly pulling off a plaster… rip that bitch off and move on.

Unnecessary contact draws the emotions back out.  Your judgement is clouded.  You feel worse.  Don’t do it to yourself.  If you don’t have kids together, never speak again.  If you do have kids together: only talk about the kids and stay amicable. No. Unnecessary.  Contact.  It is the key to making you stronger!

I am not going to say that it’s easy.  It really isn’t.  When my friends told me I would be ok and get over it, I thought they were nuts.  It’s not to say I didn’t still feel the vast array of emotions- I did.  It was just slightly easier to manage them now I had accepted that part of life was over. 

They were right.  I was kind of ok in the sense that I stopped caring about that person.  

The trauma doesn’t leave you.  The way people view you is painful.  The way I viewed myself and the thoughts I had were painful too.  

BUT…. That part of my life is done.  If I can get over a divorce then anyone can.  Divorce is wank.  End of.  It’s a real punch in the tits.

Do I look back and wish I was still married?  No way.  It was the right thing for us not to be together.  We’ve both moved on in the ways we were meant to.  Imi gets two lots of Christmas and birthday presents, so she’s winning at life too.  Her life is better now we are apart.  She loves our little life, and I’m so proud of how both of my kids have thrived.  We are a force to be reckoned with.

I felt for a long time that I owed people some kind of explanation / apology for the stages I went through with my divorce.  I didn’t, and I still don’t.  I was grieving the biggest loss of my life.  My whole life died on 17th August 2020.  How to you begin to explain that to anyone when you didn’t even understand it yourself?  I will never apologise.  I have nothing to be sorry for.  As my therapist once said… “You can’t help a feeling.  You have to feel all the feelings.”

Don’t let divorce define you.  Listen to your friends.  Let them rally around you.  Burn shit.  Drink wine.  Get thin (that’s the best bits.) Sing the shit out of Kate Bush.  Watch sad films.  Buy a vibrator.  

DO NOT GO ON TINDER.  

Anyone going through a divorce thinking “I will never be ok”…. You will. Small steps 💕

Promise.

PS) one positive was the “breakup diet”… I miss my waist.  Every cloud and all that!