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Day 330 – One Day at a Time…

Assuming it doesn’t snow and I find myself snowed in and incapacitated, in just over a week, I will find myself in a court of law fighting over finances with my ex who unfortunately remains my husband because even though he filed for divorce in June, I haven’t even been granted a decree nisi, let alone a decree absolute which will only happen after our finances are settled, however long that takes.

Following my discovery of my ex’s affair, sitting in the kitchen side by side, I told him that whatever happened in our marriage, whether it survived or not, we must be sensible and commercial, sit down like we were and sort out our finances. We both agreed that it would be stupid and senseless to go to court because the only winners would be lawyers and their fees.

I remain willing to settle my financial affairs out of court but it takes two to tango and I’m resigned to going to court for as long as it takes.

It is a sad state of affairs that my ex and I only communicate through lawyers; I have done my best to settle out of court.

I initiated financial mediation which my ex ended. I initiated an out of court offer for settlement which my ex rejected and refused to make a counteroffer.

Instead of a counteroffer, I got shit back like the knife this man has struck into my back isn’t deep enough; he needs to pull it deeper, twist the knife round and round, and find new and innovative ways to hurt me.

I still have absolutely no idea whatsoever how this man thinks our financial affairs ought to be settled because he has never said. Not for one single day.

But of course when you are stupid enough to invite other people with all sorts of ulterior motives into your marriage and into its dissolutions, you get to where I find myself; an ex who for whatever reasons best known only to him and the idiotic people he’s allowed into his life, think the best bet is to surrender the dissolution of our affairs to a court of law from which there would be no winners other than the lawyers’ coffers.

Everyday, I find new things that tell me that the person I loved for 14.5 years is long dead and in his place, is a complete stranger who has invaded his body.

Who is this person that has ignored a court mandated deadline given as far back as October? The man I loved was a sensible law abiding person who respected processes.

This arrogant piece of shit that ignores court mandated deadlines and instructs a gutter, dirty lawyer who doesn’t even have the professional courtesy to inform the other side’s lawyer of delays in meeting court deadlines, is a scumbag low life.

This person is a complete stranger to me and most definitely not the kind of company I would keep; and thankfully I don’t.

Yesterday, a friend told me how she and her ex sorted out their divorce settlement, getting a judge to rubber-stamp their agreement with praises from the judge; I envied her amicable divorce.

But things are what they are and I have no choice but to accept them and get on with it as best as I can.

This like any bad period of one’s life is only a phase; it will not last forever. It will last for as long as it lasts but not forever.

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I’m staying on the diet…just.

My head even as I write this, is filled with thoughts of food and the comfort food brings but this is how I got to where I am, so I must try my best to resist. I felt proud of myself yesterday making endless coffees with biscuits, chocolates and crisps for my friend and chomping on my Cambridge bar.

My head was filled afterwards with thoughts of the yummy crisps I had served her, it still is; a little wouldn’t hurt but I know I wouldn’t stop at a little, I would eat the whole packet and hence prolong the vicious cycle of obesity.

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One day at a time sweet Jesus.

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Day 247 – The Cycle of Grief Overwhelms Me

Last Friday, I wrote a very positive post about moving on.

Following that post, I decided to update the About Me section of this blog from the start of this weight loss journey where I wrote about wanting to lose weight for a 9th IVF cycle with “my wonderful husband” and the “love of my life”.

What total bollocks.

How is that love of my life crap working out for me?

Writing that update that doesn’t even list 1% of the incomprehensible cruelty I have faced from this man since he ended our marriage by email and engaged his mistress’ sister’s lawfirm for our divorce, triggered something and since then, I am back to feeling extremely angry with this scumbag.

Shit happens.

Marriages end. That’s fine.

If my husband had ended our marriage but had attempted to do the fair and decent thing by me instead of the incomprehensible and continuing cruelty and unreasonableness from him, I won’t be crying and writing this post.

I am so very angry at this man.

Angry that this scumbag sleeps easy and is happy to leave me with absolutely nothing after loving him, supporting him and helping to build him for over 14 years.

Angry that this spineless, psychopathic, serpent has lost all decency and is completely deluded from what is right or wrong.

Angry that this scumbag could not do the decent thing by someone that stood by him for over 14 years and instead, has chosen to invite these despicable, morally repugnant people he has known for two minutes into our lives; his mistress, her divorce lawyer sister and her law firm, who with his riches, he has on tap 24/7, to dictate what he should or should not be doing with the end of his marriage.

Angry that this scumbag has given this evil woman, not only my home address and the mobile phone number I have had since 1994, and that I had received a call on her behalf spurting her nonsensical crap.

Thanks Mylien for finally confirming your identity with that call.

Angry that he sleeps easily at night happy with his decision to pay £0 to me and towards a house he owns half of, and is demanding that I immediately sell, even though this has been my home for over 11.5 years, I have sunk my life savings into my home and have paid much more than he has.

Angry that this evil man demands evidence of facts he witnessed daily for over 14 years.

Angry that life moves on so easily for him, while I face unfathomable daily difficulties that completely overwhelm me.

Before I get any emails or messages telling me that I should get over the end of my marriage, forget my ex and move on, believe me, no one knows that more than I do.

I am doing my best because I know that anger eats you up.

It is also totally pointless being angry with a stone cold, emotionally dead, heartless scumbag who is busy enjoying his life and his riches and sleeping soundly at night while I stay awake fuming.

I do not want to stay angry with my scumbag ex.

I do not want to lose even a second of thoughts to this evil man or think about him for even a second.

I do not want to lie awake at night worrying about my life and fuming at his cruelty.

I do not want to think of the unfairness of this cruel situation that I have found myself in.

I do not want to cry myself to sleep.

I do not want to have anything negative in my life.

This is what it is and I am working on myself to keep positive and move on with my life as best as I can even though it is impossible to move on when I will not disentangle myself from this scumbag for another year.

Some days like today, the cycle of grief overwhelms me and it all seems so very impossible.

I have to have hope that there will be rainbow after the rainfall.

I have to have hope that there will be laughter and sunshine.

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Day 214 – I Stop And Smell The Roses..

It has been an eventful week.

A week ago, my husband came to our former much loved home to pick up his stuff after the longest saga ever.

You share 14.5 years with someone and he collects his things packed in black rubbish bags. Sad.

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If my ex has been affected in any way by the end of his marriage or the finality of collecting his things, he didn’t show it.

He was more interested in collecting unopened and opened bottles of brandy. I told him to enjoy.

If he was expecting drama from me, he got absolutely none.

I was cool, calm, collected, helpful and civil.

The truth is I am exhausted by life. He could take whatever he wanted to, I didn’t really care to be honest. He could have it only. They are only things.

At the end of the visit, my wonderful friend T who has been a rock and was with me said how surprised and proud of me she was and how I offered even more things than my ex had asked for.

She was livid with my ex. She said that all she wanted to do was to chuck his books and playstation games in his smug face and to tell him to fuck off when he laughingly said he needed to use the toilet. She couldn’t believe how blasé he was about everything. It was all so easy for him. Was he really concerned about brandy bottles? Seriously?

I was overwhelmed with sadness after the visit.

It all seemed so easy for this man that I had given so many years of my life to move on. I guess it sort of hit me that the last time my ex was in our home in April, we were still married, with a chance of working on our marriage and here we are, in such few months, complete strangers. All those shared lives, travels, restaurants, parties, adventures, experiences, hopes, aspirations; all nothingness, all meaningless.

But then something happens that shocks me out of my pity party for one…

My darling mother was involved in a bad car crash this Sunday. There could have been three corpses or serious injuries, and yet, the three of them walked away from that crash totally fine.

This is nothing short of a miracle.

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I can’t imagine my life without my dearest mum in it. I just can’t even contemplate that possibility. It scares the shit out of me.

I stop and count my blessings.

It puts things in perspective.

It puts the end of my marriage in perspective.

No one died.

In other news, my home looks like a florists with gorgeous flowers from my lovely, kind friends.

I stop and smell the roses.

I count my blessings.

I am a lucky girl.

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Day 204 – I Will Survive

I am physically and emotionally exhausted.

I do not see the light at the end of the craptastic tunnel

One of those nights when I have various versions of my all time favourite survival songs on auto replay…

Desperate times call for desperate measures

And like the songs say…

I am a survivor

I will survive

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

Please indulge me with the excessive YouTube Survivor Videos

At first I was afraid
I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
Without you by my side
But then I spent so many nights
Thinking how you did me wrong
I grew strong
I learned how to get along

And so you’re back
From outer space
I just walked in to find you here
With that sad look upon your face
I should have changed that stupid lock
I should have made you leave your key
If I had known for just one second
You’d be back to bother me

Go on now go walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d lay down and die

Oh no, not I

I will survive

As long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive
I will survive (hey hey)

It took all the strength I had
Not to fall apart
Kept trying hard to mend
The pieces of my broken heart
And I spent oh so many nights
Just feeling sorry for myself
I used to cry
Now I hold my head up high

And you see me
Somebody new
I’m not that chained up little girl
Who fell in love with you
And so you felt like dropping in
And just expect me to be free
Now I’m saving all my loving
For someone who’s loving me
Go on now go walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore

Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
As long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive
I will survive (oh)

Go on now go walk out the door
Just turn around now
‘Cause you’re not welcome anymore
Weren’t you the one who tried to break me with goodbye
You think I’d crumble
You think I’d lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
As long as I know how to love
I know I will stay alive
I’ve got all my life to live
I’ve got all my love to give
And I’ll survive
I will survive
I will survive… !

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Day 199: The Impotent Lothario

I have chosen to write what I feel on this blog as self therapy. If certain posts are too raw, please forgive me.

One day, I hope to read this diary and appreciate the journey I’ve been through, both on my weight-loss quest and the betrayal and heartbreak of the devastation of my life as I knew it.

I am not proud to admit that last night, I cried myself to sleep.

I had thought that the crying state of my grief is over especially as I know that the cause of my devastation, my heartless, psychopathic ex would be sleeping peacefully like a baby, just as he did in the last days, as our marriage crumbled, while I laid awake crying.

I was crying at the thoughts that I spent 14.5 years of my very short life, unselfishly and completely loving someone who was a complete waste of my time and underserving of 0.001% of that love.

Someone who would admit that throughout the years he spent smiling with me, he was seeking a way out from our relationship, with more than 12 illicit email addresses that I had found and several online singles dating profiles.

Marriages end, that perfectly fine. This man has not even left me with any memories to treasure; any thoughts of happy times are tainted with the admission that this evil coward was faking it for 14.5 long years.

I wasted my life with a loser that took 14.5 years to find someone else; when my four year old nephew manages to have two or three girlfriends at any one time.

This loser who by his own admission, only managed to sleep with his married mistress, by popping erectile dysfunction tablets Spedra and Ciallis, which I had found all over the house including the three in his former bedside table, like they were going out of fashion while I put up with 14.5 years of very bad or no sex caused by his impotence, and infertility caused by the lack of sex and his very defective sperm.

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This impotent man who suddenly and arrogantly now sees himself as some sort of lothario because some ugly, desperate, 48 year old married slut, gave him the time of the day.

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I do not wish to make fun of something as serious and devastating as impotence or erectile dysfunction, I loving tried my best to help my ex even though he refused to seek help for this problem. I lovingly and sensitively dealt with these problems, choosing to accept them and to focus on parts of our marriage that I thought worked after all, no marriage is perfect.

But please, don’t swagger and act like some fucking hot Romeo with women falling all over you and fighting over you, when you are anything but. Please.

impotent

If I thought this morning would bring me any good news or allow me the time for the countless tasks that I ought to be doing, in order to attempt to rebuild my shattered life, I was grossly mistaken.

Instead, I have spent all day dealing with more crap, lies and upset from my ex and moping around crying.

The reality is that I can say hands on heart that I do not deserve the wickedness of this evil monster. He and I knew all that went down in our marriage; how he can look at himself in the mirror or sleep at night, I cannot begin to imagine.

Only a psychopath who has completely detached himself from reality will continue to behave like this despicable, wicked, little man.

I remain grateful that the me that would have drowned the sadness and upset of the last week in greasy food is gone forever.

Not this time.

Not ever.

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Day 195 – Bank Holiday Blues

I’ve had a sad couple of days.

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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.”

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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.

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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?

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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.

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Day 145: Week 21 Weigh-in – How Long is Too Long?

I started the day by picking up a dead bird from the decked patio. Nice.

I’ve lived in my home for 11 and a half years and this was a first for me. Perhaps it had happened previously. Perhaps it’s just one of those things the man of the house would sort out, and not deem it necessary to share.

The bloody bird (quite literally) couldn’t have been killed in the hidden bits of the garden. It had to happen where I had no choice but to clear it up.

I’m a City girl. I’m so not the type of girl that picks up dead birds. For two seconds, I thought about calling one of my male neighbours to help. A damsel in distress and all that.

I manned up and picked up the dead bird.

My wonderful Cambridge consultant Mandy, helped to clean out the decking with water. Thanks Mandy.

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Following that crap start to the day, my craptastic day continued. Of course the branch of the bank that I needed to go to sort out some of the mess I’ve been left to deal with was closed. There I was trawling around like a headless chicken trying to find another branch, tiring myself all out. Even the shopping mall, a place that for 14 years used to be joyful, is now filled with sadness.

My torment might have been obvious as some random man asked me if I needed some help. He asked for my name and offered to pray for me.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. Please do. I need prayers.”

The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me.

My wonderful sister who is a medical doctor, saw a picture I took today and commented on the bags under my eyes. Being the lovely person that she is, she started by saying that I looked beautiful. She then diplomatically asked me to check whether the side effects of any of my medications included oedema.

“No, the bags have been there since Lilly Wong. [Fake name of husband’s mistress] I’m hoping they will go when I start sleeping well.”

I have resolved that I will give myself all the time in the world to recover from the breakdown of a 14 years relationship that without any warning, went from being a happy, forever after thing, (yep, that fantasy) to being so easily discarded (by email no less) like a brief meaningless fling.

I am resigned to the fact that it might take a while for me to recover from my grief.

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But how long is too long?

Why am I writing this post on a Friday night?

Why am I sobbing my eyes as I write this?

Why was I going around today with my business, with tears running down my face?

Shouldn’t all of this be getting easier?

Shouldn’t life be getting easier?

Why is life still so bloody hard?

Why do I still feel the shock of betrayal like it was yesterday?

Why am I still wasting any second of my short life crying over someone who doesn’t give a shit about me?

In other news, I lost 0.6kg, 1.32lbs today. Not earth shattering loss but a loss is a loss is a loss.

Week Twenty One’s verdict: today’s weight 97.7 kg, week’s weight loss 0.6 kg (1.32 pounds); total weight loss; 26.7 kg (58.7 pounds)

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