Worlds away

Six years ago I became officially divorced, after 17 years of marriage. How weird is that? So much has happened since then that all of that hurt and betrayal and chaos and fear and trauma, which I know was there then, means nothing now. It’s literally worlds away. It’s like it happened to someone else. It has no relevance to my life now; it’s lost in the mists of time. But it’s so odd to think that since then, the whole of my life with Matt started, happened, was everything, and then ended. And here I am back where I was then, just like someone hit reset on my life again. I do wish they’d stop doing that…especially when bizarrely the Ex, who left me for another woman, is still with her, and happy as ever. Which is good for him, and for the kids, and I bear him no ill will for it all. But I can’t help wondering why life seems to have it in for me, and not him. Karma would appear to be upside down around here. I guess life just doesn’t work like that, does it? It brings a whole new meaning to “karma’s a bitch” right? I’m back where I was when I was 22, except I’m actually 47. Not a great age at which to be starting all over again, all over again…

So in six years time will this also feel like it never was, like it’s not relevant to whatever my life is then? The easiest way to deal with it now is to not think about it, and to almost pretend it all never happened, never was, so will I look back on all of this and feel like it never happened?

Somehow I doubt it. Everything I read and am told basically says that the effects of what happened on that fateful day will be with me for years. Not months. Not oh look, it’s been a year, you’ll be fine now. No. This is apparently likely to be something that takes years to come to terms with. Which is not something you really want to hear when you’re where I am now; which is barely coping, hurting and struggling, and not being sure I can get through it. You want to be told that it gets better, it gets easier, that you’ll be ok. However no-one who’s been through it will tell you that. Those that do are those that don’t have a clue. All that those on this side of the glass will tell you is that it will get better eventually, but that that will happen in your own time, that it’ll take as long as it takes, and that you never get over it, you just learn to carry it with you, to live with the scars.

I just wish there was some way to know for sure that I’m going to be ok eventually, and sadly no-one can give me that. Which really doesn’t help. What I wouldn’t give to be able to fast forward to a time where I feel something approaching OK. That would mean believing that that time will come of course, and I’m not sure I do.

In the meantime, life is not getting easier. Lockdown has, as I’ve said before, been really bad for me. I struggle to wake up every day, and when I do I frequently wake up and burst instantly into tears because reality hits and all I have is another day of the same sh*t ahead of me, and that every day is the same, and there’s currently nothing to look forward to, nowhere to go, and no-one to see. I can count the number of people outside my family who have been in touch with me over the last few weeks on one hand. I feel like I’m ceasing to exist. I make no impact on the world around me, and it turns regardless. My world has shrunk to a few cubic metres, complete with exclusion zone. It’s a strange, cripplingly lonely, place…it’s no wonder no-one wants to visit it…

Ages ago someone from my support group gave me a green heart crystal. It had helped her through dark times and she wanted to pass it on to help me. I was beyond touched, and carried it with me from time to time, but I was so petrified I’d lose it I was worried every time I took it with me. I don’t cope with losing things very well… So with thanks to a YouTube video and some craft supplies I turned it into a pendant. I’ve now done the same with a rose quartz heart for my niece’s birthday. And yesterday evening I made another blue goldstone one, because I could and I felt like it.

In fact this evening I actually started my own Etsy store, and I’m thinking I might make a fair few and list them. Either they sell – in which case great, I have more money, or they don’t – in which case I have Xmas presents for all the females I know sorted well in advance! It doesn’t really matter. It’s just nice to have something new to do, that uses a different part of the brain, that passes some time, and that actually has a physical end product. Something pretty that you can hold and say “I made that”. And I’ll get better at doing them, and I’ll come up with new designs, and a few more hours will have passed. It beats updated websites and reformatted e-newsletters, that’s for sure…

(I’m not going to link to my store. Someone might buy the one listed there just out of pity for me. Maybe if I make a few I’ll link to it. I’d like to see if this one sells as is first though. Vanity…).

And now it’s the weekend. Which is just like the week but with even less to do. Unsurprisingly I’m not looking forward to it… At least I won’t feel so guilty if I lie in bed all day though. Silver linings, etc, etc.

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