0

Sadness Lives Here

The last few weeks have been tough, extremely tough physically, mentally and financially.

The last week and a half have sucked serious lemons.

I had some bad news that brought about the sort of indescribable pain only someone who has been through similar situation can ever understand, and many people in my life haven’t…thankfully for them, as I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone else, let alone anyone I care about.

As a result, I’ve withdrawn from social activities, ignored messages and phone calls, deactivated my personal Facebook, ditched social media, currently have nearly 2,000 unread messages on WhatsApp, majority of which are from a secondary school class group, and I’ve kind of tried to quieten a lot of life’s noises, as I deal with the grief of my news.

I am also acutely aware that isolation is not good for me, so hopefully, I will be back in the swing of things soon enough.

More than anything, I am physically, emotionally and financially drained but I’m a survivor, I will sort myself out soon enough.

Although the bad news isn’t directly connected with the end of my marriage, there is an indirect connection. And therefore the sadness of all of that have kind of resurfaced.

It didn’t help that when I confided the bad news to a good friend, her reaction was to go on and on and on and on about how she blames my ex for the news, how he wasted the best years of my life and how the shock of her whole life is the fact that my marriage ended when she had never met two people more in love or closer than my ex and I. In the end, I brought that conversation to an end by firmly stating that my ex was in the past and that I didn’t want to talk about him.

One lovely reader wrote on my blog that it will basically take around half the length of a relationship to get over my divorce, in my case, over 7 years. I remember reading that and thinking in defiance that there was no way in hell I would be mourning the loss of my marriage for over 7 years. No way, would I be giving a shit about someone that doesn’t give a shit about me, let alone for that length of time.

Sadly, the cycle of loss and grief are not solved by defiance and determination alone.

They have to run their course.

The fact that I still have moments, even within this past week, when the shock that my marriage ended wash over me anew, is not because I haven’t accepted its end and moved on.

It is just what it is.

I still feel sadness that someone else chose to break a marriage contract that was supposed to last until death. As a realist, I am fine that marriages end, the disgustingly appalling way my ex ended our marriage, the fact that in all things, he put a married woman he had an affair with, and had known for only four months, way above a 14 and a half years relationship, allowed this woman to be so actively involved in the ending of our marriage, including using her sister’s gutter divorce law firm for our bitter divorce battle with all the unnecessary drama of court appearances, is a double stabbing in my heart and back which will take time to heal.

As anyone who reads this blog would know, my ex ‘s big love affair didn’t even last two months after he ended our marriage (by email!) in the belief that he would waltz into the sunset with his lover. This married woman with two children, who had allegedly broken up with him four times during their four months affair, because she wasn’t happy that he was married, whilst remaining married herself, and who had promised him that if he left his wife, she would leave her husband, remains (happily?) married.

My ex and I have not spoken or emailed or had any communication whatsoever since our court proceedings were completed in November 2016.

I have zero intentions of ever contacting this man but if one day, his madness clears and he finally recognises the enormity of the pain his bad behaviour caused and continue to cause, and decides to apologise, he has my email address.

In the meantime, I will leave him to his karma. I hear she’s a bitch.

So many questions will remain forever unanswered and I am OK with it.

For example, finding out that the same week in May 2015, when my ex husband sent me an email entitled “My end game” dated May 4th, from his business trip in Singapore, saying that our marriage had ended and he wasn’t coming back home, a mail written with such bad grammar and weird formatting, it was obviously written by someone like his lover who learnt English as an adult, was the very same week, Mylien, the married woman he had an affair with, completed buying a new house in Woking (May 6th) which she owns jointly with her husband. Buying a massive 4 bedroom, 5 reception, 3 bathroom house, costing £815,000, two days after helping your lover to draft an email to his wife ending his marriage, is not exactly the act of a woman about to run off into the sunset.

Another suspicion is that by the time I discovered this four month affair, my ex may not have known the real name of this married woman who he had met on an internet dating website for single people. He had very easily and earnestly told me her name was Lilly Wong, and used this name in emails, at a time he was allegedly being truthful and confessing everything about the affair. This man is either even more of a dangerous snake of a liar or he completely changed, and I can go as far as to use the word “ruined” his life, for a woman from the internet, whose real name he didn’t even know. I wouldn’t know either of the options to bet on…anything is possible.

And how is my ex forging that new path and soaring those new heights he taunted me with wishing to do without me hampering his progress?

Has his life become so wonderfully amazing without me in it?

Has he found someone to swim in the sea with? Something he had taunted me with.

Does he wake up every morning with the biggest smiles on his face, a sense of purpose, a life well lived and the knowledge that ditching me and our marriage made him the happiest man alive?

Is his life filled with love, joy, music, laughter, sunshine, dinner parties, social interactions with his 14 Facebook friends? You’ve got to admire a man who defiantly stays on Facebook (after losing my family and friends) with 14 Facebook friends majority of whom are people he hasn’t seen in over 20 years. As one of his Facebook friends calls his account…”pathetic”.

Enough of my rambling rant. Hopefully letting it all out here will help ease some of the pain of this week.

Life must continue to move on with my changed circumstances.

I must continue to deal with the fact that the life plans have drastically changed because someone else choose to lie, deceive, betray, ultimately end a marriage with so much unnecessary pain and drama, and be woefully unaware that they behaved badly.

I will continue to work on my life.

I will grieve and get over my bad news and keep moving on.

I will continue to work on choosing to be happy, leaving the past firmly buried in the past and trying my best to forget and rebuild.

I will try and use those lemons to make some lemonade.

I will try. I will, I will.

Advertisements
6

Day 427: Get Thee Behind Me Divorce Grief

Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday.

Tomorrow is also exactly one year since my husband left our former marital home to pursue his affair with Mylien, a married Vietnamese mother of two, whose husband was living in Italy and who my husband met on an online dating website for singles.

Even before I found out about his four months affair, Mylien had allegedly broken up with him four times, because she didn’t like him remaining married, whilst married herself.

After I found out, she allegedly told him that if he left me, she would leave her husband. When I asked why she doesn’t leave her husband first, my ex said because they have two children.

Our marriage was easily dispensable to my ex because we didn’t have children. He conveniently forgot to tell her about his sperm issues and erectile dysfunction which resulted in 8 painful IVF, 2 miscarriages, my undergoing countless gruelling experimental treatment in our unsuccessful quest to have children.

My 11 year marriage and 14.5 years relationship ended with an email sent by my husband from a business trip in Singapore, informing me he wasn’t coming home.

Mylien remains (happily?) married to her husband.

I call my ex, my husband because a year after he left our former home and nearly a year after he rushed to file for divorce, one working day after his lawyer (same divorce law firm as his mistress Mylien’s sister Quyen) sent me an email, on our 11th wedding anniversary, informing me he wanted a divorce, celebrating with an expensive meal with Mylien the day after he filed for divorce, having secretly moved to a place 5 minutes from her home in Weybridge, as he sought to forge ahead with a new life where unbeknown to her husband, my ex was holidaying with his mistress and her children, as my life descended into chaos, untold grief and darkness, we remain married.

I do not know when the court case to settle our finances will end. The second court hearing, the FDR, which was meant to happen this April has been postponed as my ex failed to return a court mandated document. The hearing might be rescheduled for June, July or whenever the court has availabilities.

If this case doesn’t settle during that second hearing, it might drag on until a final trial at the end of the year or even early next year, when my husband and I cease to have any control over the settlement of our financial affairs and will surrender all power to a judge to settle our affairs as he deems fit. Given that the same judge would also decide whether we can appeal against his decision, it is an extremely foolish place to be and only 10% of divorcing spouses are stupid enough to go to a final trial. I am resigned that I might be one of those 10% through no fault of mine.

I have tried to settle amicably outside of court in mediation which my ex ended. I also made a settlement offer which he rejected and refused to make a counter offer.

I am resigned that the nightmare and uncertainties I continue to live in, ends when it ends.

A year after my husband left our former home, I wish I was writing a reflective post that celebrates the countless personal achievements that I have had in the past one year of being on my own and to celebrate the person that I am becoming.

Perhaps I could write about how having been driven around by men in the last 22 years, a year ago when my husband left, I had only driven 2 or 3 very short times in the previous three years and couldn’t even confidently drive 5 minutes to the supermarket.

And yet last week, and the week before that, I was this woman driving on the motorway.

No, as much as I would like to pat myself on the back, reflect on my year and say well done, I have had a tough few days and I have other things on my mind.

I am overwhelmed by grief and sadness that have resurfaced from nowhere. I had been doing so well lately…

It’s been a few days where my emotions have been all over the place. Where every little thing makes me cry. Where I wonder whether my life would ever be as carefree as it used to be, happy, smiley, secure, certain, where I felt like I had someone in my life who would stay with me forever, for better for worse, in sickness and in health, through tears and laughters, where there seemed to be a purpose, a life plan, security.

As I write this, with uncontrollable tears, I’m forcing myself to look at the bigger picture.

Yes, divorce sucks lemon and I’m not going to make lemonade as I really shouldn’t be having sugar. However, there is no situation in life that stays the same. This period of uncertainty will someday pass. The feeling that I am adrift, no one to call my own, alone, will pass.

I tell myself to make a list.

Lists make everything seem clearer. I like to have a plan. It’s good to have a plan. I have to make my lists of ways to change things that I have control over, improve things, tick off my list and keep going.

I miss my old life. 

OK, I’ve said it but I also know that my old life is a fiction. There is nothing to miss when it didn’t exist.

That old life was all a lie.

That smiling face, the conman’s smile, the infectious laughter, the daily I love yous, the daily phone calls, the hand holdings, they were all lies.

You don’t miss something that never really existed.

You don’t miss something that never was.

You don’t miss an illusion.

I shouldn’t miss my old life because there is nothing to miss. 

And therefore, I tell myself that life is what you make of it. There is no old life to think of, there is just the now.

And the now, is what I make of it.

I will scribble in my notebook, make plans and make things happen. 

I will ride this current wave of grief and sadness, and it will surely pass.

It has all gone wrong on the diet front. I had a few bad days some weeks ago, following some divorce upset and  I have struggled ever since to recover.

I am going to take a couple of weeks off Cambridge, recharge and I will get back to it in the middle of May and finally give myself the big kick up the arse I need to make sure nothing else ever comes between me and this diet.

I will not stop until I reach goal.

In the meantime, get thee behind me sucky divorce grief.

 

4

Day 195 – Bank Holiday Blues

I’ve had a sad couple of days.

sad

I guess the emptiness of my life hits me at long weekends. I do not know how to fill that emptiness. I will not force things. I will give myself time. This is not the time to heal. I do not have time to heal when I spend my days fielding new crap from my ex.

Many of my friends are still unaware of the end of my marriage and I am far too exhausted to tell them.

This week, I told one of my friends who lives in the States and who I have known since secondary school. She screamed for the entire two hours plus we talked thanks to free WhatsApp international calls. She sat there looking at photos my ex and I had taken with her and her family in New York. She was genuinely shocked. She couldn’t believe what I was telling her. She had noticed I had bailed my Facebook and had been worried about me. She tells me that she knows us. She knows our love. It is the real thing.

If she was asked to pick one out of 100 marriages that would make it forever, she would have picked us.

She had even come all the way from New York, heavily pregnant with her first child to attend our wedding.

“No, no, no, no no. This is not happening.”

“It has already happened B.”

shitalready

She tells me that my ex is having a serious mental breakdown.

I also told another friend who I have known since primary school who now lives in Spain after I dodged answering several messages where she enquired about my ex. She kept asking about my ex. I finally thought this is silly and so I told her. She was shocked and in disbelief. She had spent the last 7 years or so seeing countless loving photos of my ex and I and countless expressions of love on Facebook where all my ex ever posted were photos of us or events we were attending.

“Those happy Facebook photos was the life l truly believed I had.”

She tells me that my ex is having a mental breakdown.

I am exhausted by life. Telling people can be so draining.

She tells me I am the nicest person she knows. I am the most beautiful person she knows. She tells me how highly sought-after I was when we were growing up. She claims all the guys wanted to be with me. She says I shouldn’t say I will never marry again because I am far too young. Time will heal and I will meet the right man. I deserve to be with someone wonderful because I am such a fantastic person and she loves me so so so much. She will pray for me and ask her church to pray for me. She will do special midnight prayers for me.

I end the call grateful for her kindness and feeling a bit guilty for feeling exhausted by the call.

I call my 4 year old nephew who lives abroad. He immediately says can I speak to uncle ex even though the little boy hasn’t seen my ex for a year. It’s uncle ex, uncle ex, uncle ex.

Fuck uncle ex.

On my ex’s birthday, my niece and other nephews remember his birthday. They have spent countless weeks of the summer holiday, over several years of their young lives, holidaying with us during my ex’s August birthday. They go about with sadness, their young lives shattered by the realisation that shit happens. The uncle they adored so much, often declared was their best uncle, with whom they had spent so many happy times, long summer holidays, spent several days over last two Christmases, didn’t want to know them any more.

They mean absolutely nothing to this man they adored who has known them since they were babies and who has so easily discarded them, along with their auntie.

shithappens2

Yesterday, my mum told one of her close friends who had spent a few nights with my ex and I, about the end of my marriage. Afterwards, my mum was very sad and she said that the shock of the end of my marriage had hit her all over again. We tried to console each other.

The biggest fallacy is that for 14 years, I was with someone who I considered a saint. I painted him to my family like one, and they loved him like one.

As my mum and I tried to make some sense of the last few months and my ex’s continued bizarre and upsetting behaviour, which are so far removed from this person that we all knew and loved so much, we couldn’t make sense of it all.

The only sense either of us could make for the vitriol and wickedness is that this man is seriously mentally ill, in need of psychiatric medication but doesn’t know it.

But he says he isn’t ill.

He said that’s just my way of rationalising the end of our marriage.

When he had initially accepted that he was behaving irrationally, and had indicated he would get counselling, I had done my wifely duty. I had given him chances upon chances. I had reassured him that I would stick with him for the long haul as long as he got help.

But he then declared he was well.

If he really isn’t ill, the only other alternative is too heart-breaking and scary.

The alternative which my ex has insisted upon; that he is perfectly well.

That alternative that the person who has done the evil things this man has done, continues to do, does so with a clear head.

The alternative that means that I had loved a monstrous, evil, heartless psychopath for 14 years and I didn’t even have a clue.

What the hell does that make me?

17-who-am-i

This evening my sister told me of her sadness hearing a song that was part of our wedding video; a wedding video my young nephews used to watch endlessly, declaring that they wanted to get married like their auntie and uncle.

I tell my sister that I cry when I listen to love songs; and so I don’t listen to such songs. Lately, I have been listening to old songs from my teenage years. Songs that evoke memories of happier days; freer days, going clubbing in London as a teenager. My friends and I had no money, so we would arrive early enough for free entries. I would dance all night and nurse a diet coke and a bottle of water all night.

I desperately hope that those memories will block the sad ones. They do and they don’t.

My little nephew who is a sensitive old soul sends me one of his countless “Auntie are you OK?” messages.

“I’m OK, thanks sweetie. How are you?”

We play this little game all the time; I know that he knows that I’m not really OK.

And that’s perfectly OK.

everythingwillbeok