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ONWARDS & UPWARDS
Lizzi,
Not only did you write this post in less than an hour because I wasn’t able to manage a single word, but you did it because you love me. This may not be the best place or way to tell you how much I love and appreciate our friendship but it’s how I am doing it. Thank you for always being there for me.
I love you,
Hasty
I still don’t feel qualified to explain what went wrong with my marriage.
I know – if not me, then whom? But really it was a combination of so many things which depended on stuff which varied, mixed into a crap-tonne of awful circumstances, awful emotional hangovers from two lives lived with blind eyes turned to some fundamentals…put ‘em together and whaddya got?
That said, there’s no “Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo” with divorce. Not in England, anyway, where the concept of ‘no fault’ hasn’t yet been established, leaving Husby and I (because we’re not there yet, so yes – still married on paper) in the unenviable position of needing one of us to come up with a reason to divorce the other. As if there were only one. Or any, because as much as we were both to blame, we also both weren’t.
It was never going to be an easy ride. We were both hesitant in our relationship; attempting to build a ‘we’ whilst the ‘I’s were still very much works in progress. There was the matter of his thoroughly banjaxed physical health (which deteriorated while we were together, finally ending in the diagnosis which left him with absolutely necessary treatment that rendered him infertile), and his mental health (which deteriorated alongside his physical health), and my mental health (which deteriorated alongside his physical and mental health), and the emotional quotient of our marriage, which dwindled past zero into the cold-and-angry zone, alongside the dwindling functionability of the both of us.
I got to carry the can in the end, because I was the one who asked for the divorce, so it fell to me to lay blame. He helped me fill out the paperwork, though, and it seemed as though we were finally back on the same team, though for a reason we would have found heart-breaking if we’d had any heart left in the emotional desert that was our partnership at that point. As it was, we were able to be functional. Heartless.
Though not too heartless. There were explanations. Reasons. It wasn’t that he’d just been a bastard to me. And anyway, I’d also been a heinous bitch to him. Neither of us had been able to support each other through two miscarriages (mine), two suicide attempts (his) and two near-misses (one each), and an eating disorder (mine again). It wasn’t his fault. And yet I had to find fault in order to release us from what had become a poisoned shackle, biting into our souls and causing deep and constant pain.
So we sent off the paperwork, he moved out, and I felt immediate relief.
The pressure was off, and I no longer had to try to be a good wife, when I knew I had failed badly. I no longer had to be supportive to a man who didn’t really seem to want my support, or find it helpful. I no longer had to share time with someone who I could no longer view without the unpleasant taste of love gone sour. I no longer had to bear repeated rejections, which had previously driven me to some incredibly dangerous brinks.
Under the care of friends, I began to thrive. I had already begun work on sorting out the eating disorder, but honestly, the most amazing thing for my self-image and sense of self-worth seemed to be that I was no longer being constantly reminded (through attitude or circumstance, or even analysis of my own behaviour and how reprehensible it was at times) that I wasn’t enough.
I hoped that I would never again have to hear the words “I love you, but not enough to want to be alive at the end of the day”. I would never again resort to cruelly using our shared grief against someone I used to love “I’m GLAD I’m not pregnant – I dread to think what kind of life our babies would have had, if they had lived”. I was ready to start over, just being me, and trying to improve where I could, to be the person I hoped I could mold myself into, over time. You know – someone worthwhile. Because I didn’t see that person in myself, and clearly he didn’t either.
We waited and waited to hear, and when we did, it was news that the thingamabob didn’t do the job, and our application had been turned down.
I let him know, because I immediately assumed blame – I must have been too kind. He laughed and texted back that I hadn’t been able to paint him as a villain because he wasn’t one.
And although he was a mixture, and could be kind (and often was, in the beginning), I remembered his sustained rejection of me. His callous attitude to my internal landscape. His wilful determination to be married on his own terms, which cast me in a role somewhere between ‘flatmate’ and ‘carer’. His obvious lack of desire to be involved in my world, or have me in his. His obvious lack of desire for me in any way, shape, or form. His final, trust-shattering imposition, incongruous against a background of apathy. His refusal to recognise any of it as wrong. And I broke.
Because it must have been me.
It must have been that I was every bit the over-bearing, undermining, repugnant, pugnacious, repulsive, snarky, cruel, ice-queen bitch he seemed to see me as. All the building up which had happened in the months since we’d split, came crashing down as the pain in my heart and my head grew to overwhelming proportions.
I’d already promised a friend I wouldn’t consider taking my own life again, but the pain was unbearable, so I drank all the drink and I took a bunch of heavy-duty pain pills, and I cut, because physical pain was a good distraction, and whilst my thoughts were at knife-point, they weren’t trying to convince me to keep going with the pills, and keep going with the pills, and keep going with the pills until I could sleep the pain away forever.
I scared my friends that night.
The person they loved reached out to them, pissed and off her face, explaining the cutting and the self-medication, crying and trying to explain through gasps of despair, that it was all her fault. And they could do nothing. Because I reached out to people who were far, far away, and couldn’t intervene. I still wanted the option.
Shame on me.
Salvation was around the corner though, in the form of new understanding that it was HIM who had filled the forms out, and that I had damaged myself, put myself through hell, and terrified my friends, all for nothing. Well. Not nothing. For him!
No more.
I suddenly realised, for maybe the first time in my life, that I was better than that. I had more to offer than to be brought low by someone else’s ineptitude. Particularly his. I had help to fix the application, I appealed, and am still awaiting the results.
But the change in my own heart has remained.
Because it’s a piece of paper, and because the marriage ended up so much a sham, and because it was probably just wrong from the offset. We both recognised early on that we shouldn’t have done it, but did anyway, because by the time you’re there, it seems like such a nightmare to back-track and undo all the doings, that you just carry on and hope for the best.
If your ship sets off a few degrees off course, it’s not so noticeable at the beginning, but keep chugging forwards and the distance from where you ‘should’ be, becomes more and more evident. Those few degrees don’t just magically correct themselves, especially when some of them are inalterable circumstances, not just the two of you being ornery.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and this perspective is hard-won when you’ve spent years with your head determinedly in the sand. I’ve been blessed with friends and family who are in strident support of me (even when they’ve had cause to challenge my behaviour), and who have steadfastly encouraged me to do my best to behave in ways which align with the person I’d like to be, rather than act out from hurt or anger.
I’ve forever been dedicated to living life in Silver Linings, and though my ability to do so has waxed and waned, I still assert that I am the product of my history, and every experience; each challenge; each high and low and boost and knock, has been necessary to get me to the person I am today.
That said, as much as the experiences, it’s been the attitudes and behaviours which I’ve developed through, and with, and the guidance and support I have received, which have most shaped me.
Because of the mixture of outside input and my own determination to move onwards and upwards, I’m on track to achieve my goal – that in spite of all the ‘whatever’s of life, at some point I will weigh and measure myself, and find I am enough.
But always, always stronger together with those who love me.
Terrific!! “Love” in itself holds boundless possibilities…….
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Oh wow. I really want to wrap you up in an hour long hug, little sister…
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I would let you, too. But I’m getting stronger, with help 🙂
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Frist.
Gently, today.
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Thank you Precious xo
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Wait a minute! Am I not frist!
DANG IT!
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Anywho.
“I had more to offer than to be brought low by someone else’s ineptitude.”
You have more to offer than to be brought low by anyone else’s ANYTHING. You’re a gorgeous human being, inside and out. I’m so glad your finding your way.
I love you.
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I’m getting there. I mostly get brought low by my own self-doubt these days. Or always. It’s the next thing to fix.
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Love you too, Hasty.
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Love you endlessly. Thank you so much for helping me when all I could do was stare helplessly at the computer screen.
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Any time, Sunset xo
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You are so much more than that which you give yourself credit. You are strong and loving and beautiful.
And Hasty, that goes for you as well.
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Awh thank you, lovely Chrissy. You always bring such sunshine. I truly appreciate it. Xo
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Wow, Lizzi. You are amazing! I felt the change in you over the miles via social media. A happier woman learning to shine again. A bad marriage and finally, divorce is an ‘ass kicker’. I’ve been there.
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I’m just so relieved the change has been noticeable. I was really turning into someone very dark and desperate. Thank goodness (for both Husby and I) that it’s over.
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That is one of the most powerful pieces of truth I have ever read… thank you…
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Thank you Art. I really appreciate that 🙂
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no… thank you…
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Oh, Lizzi. You know, I often think about you and me and the similarities (and differences) in our marriages. I absolutely see why you and he are NOT staying together, and I see why me and mine ARE still together.
There are times that I feel he doesn’t see ME or really care about ME, too. Being ill is so all-consuming, it’s hard for him to get out of his own headspace and put himself in others’ shoes. I choose to forgive him for that.
Sometimes I get so impatient and crabby and snap at him and make him feel small. But he forgives me for that.
It’s so HARD, though! My marriage does not look like other marriages and I’m often envious.
But like I’ve said to you before, we had a super solid foundation before the shit really hit the fan, and that sustains us. For better or worse.
I applaud you for knowing you didn’t have the foundation you needed in your marriage and putting a stop to causing each other pain.
And, by the way, you ARE good enough. ❤
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I’m so so glad you read this and understand, Jen, because you and I share (or shared) so many parallels and I always wondered how you did it, and if I’m honest I often compared myself to you and felt weak and incapable because you seemed so able and determined where I was giving up. But you’re right – we didn’t have the stable foundation you guys did. And I think with everything else, we really didn’t stand a chance. We tried til it nearly killed us, and it was stupid to try any more.
That said, I have so so appreciated your support, encouragement, and example through the years, so thank you. 🙂
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So much of this reminded me of my own marriage, separation and divorce. Sometimes I look at everything that’s been thrown at you and I over the past decade or so, and I think back to the two teenagers sitting swearing and giggling in that corridor and having spontaneous poetry competitions, and I wonder how they could be the same people. Not because Teenage You and Teenage Me were amazingly happy and well-adjusted (because we both know they weren’t), but just because we had SO LITTLE IDEA of what adulthood could do to a person. 😦
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This is why I’m convinced that crystal balls are just THEE VERY WORST idea ever – if we could have seen these futures, we would never have gotten out of bed to go and live them!
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Perhaps not. Or perhaps we’d have just made sure not to make the decisions that led up to the bad stuff happening. Which, I suppose, might have resulted in even WORSE shit happening. It’s too horrendous to think about. You’re right…fuck crystal balls.
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Yup. No point trying to second-guess the future. We just have to weather it and hope for the best.
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Oh Lizzi. I’m reading this, all of the pain and the self loathing and the frustration. And it hurts to read it. But then, I feel like I’m seeing something different. Things I’ve never heard you say (or write) before. “No more…” I almost jumped out of my chair and applauded. Please remember that phrase when you find yourself taking on blame and hurt. Please remember the “I suddenly realized… that I was better than that.” And I’m not just referring to your marriage and divorce. NO MORE. You are so more than enough. ❤
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Slowly, slowly, there is some semblance of worth creeping in. Don’t tell anyone, will you 😉
And I’ll try to remember. Can’t promise I’ll always ‘get it’, or that I won’t go back to default mode, but…I’ll try 🙂 Thanks G, for being wonderful, and always caring about me 🙂 ❤
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Big hugs, Lizzi. I don’t know you very well but it’s easy to see that you are loved by and are an inspiration to many people. I’m sending up some prayers today that all the encouragement and love you spread will come back to lift you up today and every day.
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Thanks so much Leslie. I really appreciate the prayers and your comment. I’m really blessed to have such marvellous friends around me, and they do encourage and love me, on all the days – not just the good ones 🙂
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Always, always, always. 💕
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Thank you. Always. You’re such a wonderful friend and constant encourager. I hope you know how much you matter.
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I could say the same of you. 😘💖. One day. Soon. I will give you a big hug. And show you.
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Well….YAY US! 😀 ❤
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It’s sooooo good to see you writing about your divorce. I’m not even ready to start that process, but today was therapy session #31…
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Such incredibly, vastly different circumstances though, Jeri. My relationship was really over about 2 years in, and we just kept slogging because we were both dumb…
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Divorce is an ugly, horrible process. I have been destroyed by it twice. Never again.
It sounds like you have a good grip on what went wrong in your marriage. Many things from which to learn. You are on the right path, my friend.
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Some was him, some was me, lots was situation. I got my application through for decree nisi today, so there’s THAT. But it looks like a paperwork NIGHTMARE and I’m really not relishing it. So blech!
NEVER AGAIN! Because the untangling is just TOO MUCH!
*hugs*
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Yes, yes it is.
*hugs*
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*HUGS*
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❤ ❤ ❤
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\oo/_ Always *smiling*
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This was too hard to read in one sitting. No fault, it doesn’t mean faultless. I wish there was some way to make it better than it is. To tell you it will be better, you will be better. To beg you to find yourself too love first and always.
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I agree that ‘no fault’ doesn’t mean faultless, but when one or the other party is struggling so much with mental and physical health that they’d rather be dead than married another day, *surely* it’s kinder to allow them an out without the need for finger pointing. And when BOTH begin to feel that way? It’s awful 😦
Thank you though, for wishing it could be better. It was better the moment we decided to split. It was better when we began living properly separate lives. And once it’s all over, it will be better still.
I will aim to seek love from now on, and try to learn to find myself loveable 🙂
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I didn’t intend to come off snarky, truly. I was trying to say something entirely different, reading your response I think I failed miserably. I think I might owe you a huge apology.
Divorce under any and all circumstances is usually terrible. The rules you are working under making it horrific. You are so right, you both should have a humane out that would allow for healing and loving futures, no matter what that looks like.
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I didn’t take it as snarky – I took it as supportive!
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Oh, I am so glad. I read here all the time and so rarely comment. I thought, gad this is why I don’t comment I am such a foot in mouth idiot.
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Ha! Nope. Not at all. I love that you read here all the time though. Perhaps now you’ve broken the seal on commenting, you’ll continue to. It’s wonderful to develop community in the comments section (I always hold that with blogging, this RightHere is where the magic happens).
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Wht a powerful and moving portrait you paint of how you took a terribly difficult situation and came through, stronger and braver than ever.
I haven’t gone through divorce, thankfully, but I have lived with two different boyfriends, which would have made me common law, but one only lasted a few months.
The other lasted more than a year and ended badly.
It’s still one of the hardest things and I don’t know if I can bring myself to write about it like you have.
Someday perhaps.
It’ left me feeling shameful and depressed, but writing helps make all that bearable.
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Dear, Sweet Lizzi,
Thank you for sharing your story. As close as we’ve become, I’m hesitant to open wounds without asking first. And, how does one ask?
To see your journey, and hear your words fills in the little pieces for me. You have always been an amazing beacon for me, and I’m so happy to see that perhaps, you are that same light for yourself.
Ah-mazing – that’s my Lizzi. xo
And Hasty- I just have GOT to read more of you. Speaking of beacons 🙂
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❤️ and me you
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