Twelve months is a long time…
In anyone’s book, but it has felt like a life time to me.
12 months ago, my ex-husband made my life an absolute misery. He pushed me to the point that I started to look at divorce proceedings. This was in spite of the fact that, he was the one that first mentioned the word. He was so adamant whilst in a fit of rage (of course), that that was what he wanted. (But as usual he had the words, but was not willing to spend any money to carry it out). That rage was directed, point blank, at me. I guess he wanted a response… but not the one he got…
Because at that moment time, I couldn’t have been happier.
The best thing
No matter how my spirit might have felt crushed, those words lifted me right back up there. It was the best thing, it felt like my soul had finally been released. I knew at that precise moment I would fly again. However, I also knew that until that day came and I had a piece of paper in my hand, I would have to bide my time… and deal with whatever he was going to throw at me.
It hasn’t been a nice year. In fact, I think this may be my worst year ever. With so much going against me, I wonder now, how it is that I have come through this… and keep a smile still on my face.
Because it hasn’t been easy. I have been really battling with my illness the year, it has been a struggle at times, to even be on my feet. And most of this is due to the constant stress within my home and an excess of outside pressures.
This year has been a huge turning point in my life, I have learned so much, felt so much and hurt so much. But I also know, that all this stuff, will help to build the foundations for my new life.
I won’t go into the details about what brought my ex and I to that juncture, as it means having to think and talk about him. And to be honest that’s the last thing I need or want to do. But what I will say is, to my knowledge I have never applied the “C” word to a person, until it became very apt for him! I used to refer to him as “Mister”, pretty nondescript and indifferent. Then I began calling him ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, because of his dual personality. After that, I named him “Wylie Coyote”, because just like Wylie, whatever shit he pulled on me, it only backfired!
But now and forever more, I affectionately refer to him as “Fuckface”, which seems to be very fitting. I was particularly pleased when Facebook came up with a definition for the word “Fuckface”, because it defined him perfectly!
I can’t find the post itself, but here’s the definition: “Fuckface”, a person who’s face upon immediately seeing, you just want to smack!
I also don’t want to be an embittered woman, complaining about how a man has done her wrong! I definitely don’t want to take that thought into a new year, that’s not how I roll.
But this year has brought about many things, that I thought I would never bear witness to, but they all serve as an important lesson for my future. I lost whatever little care or affection that I still held for him a long time ago. Sadly, I also lost what little respect I had for him; but that wasn’t difficult, because he had no respect for himself.
Fuckface never knew how to be thankful. In fact he lacked any feeling for anything, unless it was a real passion of his. But to his regret, all too often he went too far for his own good. He stared straight down the gullet of the many gift horses I presented, never understanding genuine and uninhibited kindness for what it was. EVERYTHING, was taken, eaten up selfishly and greedily, it really was a disgusting sight to watch. It’s a shame he didn’t have the same gusto, when it came to his responsibilities, but hey ho!
But, as I have said before, I blame myself, because I allowed it to continue. End of.**
Finally, my divorce came through on Tuesday, October 22nd, even though I didn’t find out until two days later. It marked the end of an eighteen year long relationship, one that should never have got this far and/or have ended long before. It was the end of any kindness or concessions. It was the end of financial burden and attachment. It cost me dearly. I have lost more money than I have gained, but it didn’t matter to me, because quite simply:
Money has never been my king.
So many friends suggested I held out for more or that I shouldn’t have given in, but they didn’t know the pain I was in. In the end, I opted for the “I just want to be done with this” attitude, to me, not being attached to him and starting over was far more imperative than what I was leaving behind or losing. After all, I was never going to get it back, was I? However, any celebrations were short lived, because my status might have changed, but not my circumstances. They were still very much the same!
So instead, I became internally stronger, and remained graceful and dignified at all times. I think that got to him more, because I simply did not respond to his angry words and threats any more. Which in turn, made my life easier.
From home to house
Our house, is another story. I put my blood, sweat and tears into creating a fabulous space, I called home. But it soon reverted from home to house, it was no longer my ‘home’ as emotionally and mentally I had already left. It’s been on the market since Feb this year, and we had a sale within the first few days. It looked like everything was going to be sorted. However, I didn’t bank on Fuckface sinking so low, and being the complete and utter t**t that he is!
Long story, short, we had a sale, he refused to sign the property papers agreeing to it, so 4 and a half months later, buyers lost interest, and found somewhere else. His reasons for doing this? Well, besides blackmailing me with a list of conditions, your guess is as good as mine. It intrigues me more, because he was the one who bullied me into selling it in the first place! See why I called him Wylie? But I guess he must have thought he was being really clever.
But anyway, I began by saying that 12 months is a long time, because it feels like this has all happened day by day, frame by frame, in slow-motion. Remembering how I felt back then… almost, but not quite broken.
I so needed to take control again, bit by bit and piece by piece. Slowly picking up fragments of myself that had been lost on the wayside. I have felt and been so alone at times. But solitude gave me what I needed – time. Time to inspect and search through all my broken pieces, and discard the fragments that were putrid. There has been no outside influence or interference in the process, it was just down to me. Muddling my way through my mind, and as usual making sense of it all, seeing the answers I couldn’t find before.
All I need now, is for the house to be sold again, this is my one true wish for this next year. Because it will finally mean that I can finally sever all my links with Fuckface and move on.
After all it’s been over 2 years since our marriage ended, and two months since our divorce, I think it’s more than time now.
These days, he doesn’t come to mind, unless I recognise similar patterns and behaviours in someone else. And when that has happened, it has felt like a rude re-awakening, with trumpets and bells sounding out the arrival of red flags.
I know when wrote this, I was in a really bad way and in a very bad place. How I managed to keep my resolve and find strength throughout this time, is still a mystery to me. I can honestly say that whole episode has never once brought tears, even though I have often felt that way. I guess after so many years, it was anger and contempt that I felt most, I didn’t have any tears for him.
But now it has been over 4 years since I started again, I am happy with who I am, and where I’m at in my life.
The only regret I have is that I should have done it so much sooner. Sx ❤️
** I’ve have since addressed this!