I found myself blindsided. Never did I think that my marriage would end… let alone the way that it did. Now, I find myself a mid-thirty year old single mom of two young kids.
Do not get me wrong, I would NOT change the outcome for anything. Not in a million years. But the last three years, up until now, have been the most painful years of my existence. I have experienced emotions I did not even think were possible, and at a depth I had never experienced them before.
My divorce was the absolute, most excruciatingly painful and crushing experience.
I loved my husband more than anything. And because of that, I stayed longer than I should have. We both did. The last year of our marriage was not a good one, by any standards. Both of us were miserable and defeated. I thought of leaving many times, and I would ask him the same… but he always said no – he wanted to work it out. Because I loved him so very much, I did as well. I always did.
I guess this is why the reality of it ending hit me so hard. My happiness had left, but my love hadn’t.
Because of the way our marriage was, of all possible reasons to end a marriage, I thought growing apart would have been the way we ended. But he found someone else, and left with them by his side.
My soul was crushed. I can not even put into words the emotions I felt. The emotions were intensified when the post-separation abuse started. Post-separation abuse is very real… look it up if you are not familiar with it. It’s painful, insulting, and put me into a deep depression that has taken years for me to even begin to overcome.
He took some of my possessions from our home and gave them to her. He used our joint bank account to take her out to an expensive dinner. He refused to continue to contribute to his financial share of anything – the mortgage, the utilities, food, the kids clothes or school costs. He angrily threatened to move back in (while continuing to see his new girlfriend) when I requested help with the financials of the home we still shared, the roof his children still lived under. He left me with a broken soul, sinking spirit, and an empty wallet.
And it was my fault. Everything, anything, was my fault. In his mind, he was a victim. I’m still not really sure how. We could have separated as equals – no victims among us – had he chosen to go about things differently. But he got angry and mean and rude and vicious. I still don’t know why.
Three years later and my life is rebuilding. Slowly.
It took three years, but I am finally comfortable being alone. Finally comfortable and happy sitting on the couch at home by myself, alone.
There are still times when the loneliness and loss hits me. I may fall asleep crying into a pillow, ask to spend the night at my parent’s place, or toss in bed all night wrapped up in my thoughts. But day by day the loneliness lessens.
My mood is stabilizing. The less abuse that comes my way, the easier it is. If I get an angry or threatening message from him, I may fall back further than I would like… but at least these days it takes me less time to bounce back. I know my triggers and am able to recognize when I am getting into a funk.
I am able to be truly happy. To experience life on my own, with my babies, and really get a lot of joy out of the little things. I don’t leave work worried about what lies ahead once I get home, and I have the freedom to do whatever the kiddos and I would like to do – go for a walk, craft, watch a movie – without having to check in with someone else before planning to do so. I can be spontaneous or predictable. And it’s a wonderful feeling.
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This post was originally published March 30, 2017 on Chelsea’s blog ‘She was Mssing Pieces‘ and has been submitted to us by the author.
Feature image from original blog post.