Tag Archives: depression

Empty nest

Empty nest

I picture myself dying of cancer, the rosie dream is that one is surrounded by loved ones, but in sneaks the reality, ‘Mum I’m busy this weekend I’m having dinner with my girlfriend and her mum’, ‘works been tiring this week’, ‘I’m going skiing with dad’ my children’s lives, the people who have meant everything to me for the last twenty years, have other priorities, much more interesting temptations.

 

I know in reality my death will be empty and alone escorted to the end by the long blip of the heart monitor.

Freedom is scary

Four years ago my life as I knew it ended, he left and ended my love, my children’s childhoods, my sense of where I was in my world, my home, my job, my security, my ability to trust. I survived and slowly I’m rebuilding but now I face another period of endings.

My youngest will soon leave home, my poor dog is on her last legs and the cat not far behind, even my dear mum is struggling. My menopause is here and I’m losing my youth and probably my libido too. My partner is moving to the other side of the country.

With the loss of things In the past I gained freedom, but it’s scary stuff. I can move to almost anywhere, start again except I’m starting as a middle aged person, not a mum with kids in the same school. It’s going to be hard to break into the inevitable middle class, middle age cliques, a place I don’t fit at the best of times, but, I can reinvent myself – Madonna style. I don’t think I have the energy to be anyone other than me though.

My last enforced freedom had me jumping out of planes and into bed with near strangers, luckily one of those strangers saw through all that and had the patience and understanding to hold me.

I’m worried I’ll have the strength to face the next set of endings that seem to be converging, beyond my control to the same few days in my near future, a real punch to my belly. Can I face the horrors of loss and stand up again somewhere new, I won’t be alone this time but my gallant knight has a few rust spots and belly wounds as well, that’s why he was so understanding.

It’s a chance to move away from the pain, but the pain has a certain familiarity.

Dependence of a codependent – moving away from pain.

My son was telling me of a horrific psychology experiment where a dog is in a cage, one half of the floor is electrocuted. The dog moves to the other side pretty quickly. They then locked the dog in the electrocuted side, after a while they remove the partition but the dog doesn’t move to the non painful side – it stays in pain. 

I have been bothered by this for days. Has the dogs will been broken, is it getting something from the pain? Why doesn’t it move? Am I the dog who had got so used to pain that that’s what I chose? After more than 45 years of codependency am I unable to even freely choose to move away? If they moved the dog away from the pain would it crawl back to it? Can it be saved? 

Three wishes, what do we really want?

Watching Aladdin in panto I was struck with the question of what my three wishes would be?

1. Health for sure… Not to groan as I stand, to be able to run and move like I was 17… Or 7!

2. My second surprised me, it was to be amicable with my ex. It would make mine and my kids lives so much happier. I have tried a few times but I can’t break through, I don’t think it’s possible till the financials are sorted (which he tells me is never) and frankly it’s probably too late. However I can encourage my partner to be kind to his child’s mother.

3. I’m leaving this one for all of you! What would you do with your wish?

I was a broken chair

Sometimes a broken thing can be fixed to be stronger and more beautiful.

My new partners parents had an old painted dining chair in their bathroom. It had a metal plate quite crudely screwed on where the back had previously been broken and I couldn’t help reflect as I lay in the bath that I was that chair.

Sat upon for years, part of a set, then broken and cast off on my own, then some very kind person saw something in me, took the time to mend me so that I was stronger than ever before, if a little scarred, but standing on my own and doing what I needed to do in life.

Divorce at Christmas a perspective

As I watched ‘Labor Day’ the other night I saw with a new perspective how my ex husband saw me – miserable, all the life and passion drained from my soul by loss. Like the heroine I had three miscarriages between my two children then after my second was born alive, so many more miscarriages that I stopped counting when I got to double figures.

Just like the heroine I was miserable, my peers were falling pregnant at the drop of a hat, going anywhere and seeing pregnant women and babies hurt like hell. Getting sympathy from others and the kindly meant scripted words ‘but at least you have two beautiful children’ stabbed at me like rusty knives. The constant years of maternity clothes. Eventually I was spared more torment by a series of ectopic pregnancies and that subject was put to rest in my mind. Not his though, my ex then set us up for IVF, his narcissistic mind demanding that he could buy what nature had failed to provide, it didn’t work, I think my ex still saw me as miserable and barren and hence the move to a younger woman. I held no further use to him.

Then it all happened again, with his leaving I was plunged back into the world surrounded by happy complete families, doubly so as it was Christmas time and the media illusion successfully demolished my soul to some extent. My worthlessness felt complete. I could hardly leave the house. But only by getting that low did I find the courage to really let go and find elemental pleasures and so be carefree about personal danger that it allowed me to feel again.

When they leave the pain is quickly encompassed by a protective numbness and you start to believe you will never feel again. My advice is give into it, let the numbness do its work and as you no longer feel or care a freedom creeps in that will help you feel and live again.

Happiness post divorce

The happiest I’ve ever been

After divorce there is a huge pressure from friends and colleagues to fall into the set script of a divorcee.
Friend ‘But you’re happy now aren’t you?’
Divorcee ‘oh yes the happiest I’ve ever been’

I’m not the happiest. Life is hard, although at first my kids coped well there are cracks and massive inconveniences in their lives. Money is difficult, I rely on maintenance (it’s a complicated story basically my ex wouldn’t give me a final settlement from the business we started so he pays in maintenance) this means I’m not free to have a partner in my life so long as I take the money my ex owes me. You can bet my Narcissist ex loves this!

I found love again yet how long will he hang around for a middle aged woman who is not free to be with him? Maybe I’ll get lucky but I think the odds are stacked against us. Whatever happens it’s not his responsibility to make me happy.

I’m often lonely, friends scattered like I was a bio hazard and it’s taking time after being forced to move to a new town without young children to break into new friendships.

Learning makes me happy, coming to an understanding of how I got here, having been spat out the middle class, married professional machine like a sneeze, I’m still a bit disorientated.

I like it here and I wouldn’t go back and wish he had left sooner. But honestly I was happy in the early years before he started going mad with money and power. Admittedly I was happy in my ignorance but with the supreme power of hindsight I see it was not real.

I think real happiness is in making my own choices.