This has been an eventful week.
I went for a two hour, 360 health assessment which is basically a full health check-up. Every part of my body, in and out, was prodded and tested.
I guess part of the reason I wanted to do it, was to make sure that the stress of the end of my marriage hasn’t resulted in physiological ill-health, after all, stress is a killer.
The good news is that my lung function in some parameters was as much as 133% of women my age, surprising given that my system is somewhat compromised by bouts of childhood pneumonia and bronchitis etc for which I attend hospital for monitoring.
Following ECG, I was told that I have 0.7% chances of having a stroke or heart attack in the next 10 years.
Not bad for an old bird.
The bad side is that I am a bit anaemic and low in calcium.
The doctor also thinks I’m somewhat depressed and should restart psychotherapy. I told him I had completed the 16 paged extremely detailed questionnaire (WTF!) on a particularly pissed off day and was irritated by the length of the form.
He was sympathetic.
I have lost nearly two inches in height since my last test in 2010 which could be related to my chronic back issues or bone loss. WTF. The doctor has referred me to a hospital for a bone density scan, just to be sure. If it is bone loss, I get to pop some more pills.
I also had my breasts examined by the nice, very handsome doctor.
“The good thing about your right breast is that it is very soft.” He said having examined one breast.
I resisted the urge to giggle at the most non-sexual feeling of my breasts ever, by a very attractive man.
Next week, I will have a mammogram to complete the health MOT.
Following the test, I met up with a lovely lady I used to work with and who I am rather very fond of. We hugged and kissed the way old friends do.
Like she always does whenever she sees me, she said:
“And how is Chris? Are you two still madly in love and as happily married as ever?” She asked with a very wide smile ready to listen to me go on about the merits of married life ,for I was once one of the smug married.
Poor lady was mortified and very apologetic when I told her I was divorced, having had the divorce from hell, two court hearings and 18 months from hell, with a pending case about a Mac Computer.
It’s great to see one’s life through the eyes of others.
She was lovely.
Declared that I had a chance to reinvent myself.
Told me money is the root of all evil and can change people.
Reminded me that I was great at my job and encouraged me to return to work, even if for one day a week.
“You write beautifully. You could be a writer. You could be a blogger. You could be a public speaker. You were fantastic at the talks you used to give.”
I smiled broadly at her and we agreed to arrange a girlie night out with another mutual friend.
I left her with smiles and a renewed sense of self worth.
She immediately followed up with a text message, a friends’ request on Facebook and she set the ball rolling for our girlie night out.
Following an extremely long day, I came back home to a letter addressed in a handwriting I thought was that of my ex husband. I quickly dismissed the thought as it wasn’t the first time I had thought a handwritten letter was from him.
But alas, this time, it was indeed my ex.
Inside the envelop was a signed letter.
Also, a first class stamp.
And a handwritten letter that said:
“Please sign & send to the court. Thanks. No need for anything further. Chris.”
He had signed a letter asking the court to dismiss the hearing for the Mac Computer.
I was stunned.
I had been resigned to attending court to talk shit about the Mac Computer.
I had even started drafting my witness statement.
I felt overwhelmed with unexpected sadness.
On Tuesday February 24th, 2015, my life as I knew it, ended with the discovery of my ex husband’s affair. The madness that started that day, cumulated in his leaving our previous matrimonial home on 18th April, 2015, followed by email from his business trip in Singapore on Monday May 4th, 2015, telling me he wasn’t coming back home and instead, he had found a flat in Weybridge, 5 minutes from Mylien, the married mother of two he had an affair with. Prior to my finding out about his affair, this woman had told him that if he left his wife, she would leave her husband. Mylien remains married to her husband, the father of her two children.
20 months after I found out about this affair, this fucking nightmare is finally, truly over. It’s OVER.
So, why am I having a second glass of wine as I write this diary entry?
Why have I immersed myself in activities since Tuesday, spending all day, doing things because I do not want to give myself time to think?
Why do I feel like I need to finally mourn the end of my marriage to someone who I had regarded as the love of my life and who had told me countless times I was his? And yet, I refuse to spend any more time mourning any such marriage because I have wasted quite enough time on all that, thank you very much.
Why do I feel sadness at the thoughts that I will spend the rest of my life alone and single because I will never ever make myself that vulnerable ever again?
I have no answers or wise words to explain how I feel.
One of my readers once wrote that it would take at least half of the number of years I spent with my ex to get over the pain of divorce. That would mean that it would over 7 years. That’s a very long time and I don’t want to believe that would be the case, not if I can help it.
Life goes on.
Sometimes, life throws unexpected balls.
But it’s down to us whether we swim or sink and I am already swimming.
I have also started a little venture that I’m excited about.
If like today, I feel like drinking red wine, I won’t beat myself up about it. A little bit of wallowing is OK too, as long as it has been a day like today, when I worked pretty hard, all day on my little venture and get to wallow a bit in my downtime.
In other news, did anyone watch the Walking Dead premier? OMFG.