Years ago, a friend referred to a particularly rough period in his life as a “donkey ride through hell”. I have never forgotten the expression. Lately, it seems like the donkey and I have been on a sight-seeing tour of hell’s outer fringes. It ain’t pretty.
In October, after Bill’s girlfriend downgraded their relationship to “friends with benefits”, he let me know that he wants to go forward with the divorce. Understandable, since at the end of this month, it will be four years since he told me our marriage was over.
On November 1, I was called into a meeting at work, and informed that due to budget shortfall the college is no longer able to employ me full-time. Starting on January 1, I will be down to 16 hours per week – about $1,500 a month, pre-tax. No benefits, of course.
I hate how my life turned out, and it’s all my own fault.
Bill is going on a date tonight.
At first, I could not understand why this hurt me so much. After all, I have known that our marriage was over for more than three years now. I have told Bill, many times, that I am OK with him dating while we are getting ready to file for divorce, and I meant it. I have gone through the stages of grief, I have made my peace with the situation, so why this emotional response?
I’ve been thinking about it a lot this week, and finally realized that deep down inside I never believed I am worthy of being loved, because even I don’t like myself, so how can anybody else? And yet a part of me had always hoped that I was wrong. I wasn’t, and that’s why it hurts so much.
Two years ago, I wrote a list of the things I miss. Back then, I was on the beginning rungs of the Stages of Grief ladder, alternating between denial and anger. Now, I am somewhere in the middle, acceptance mixed with depression. Perhaps two years from now I will be at the end – older, wiser, better, happier. But today
– I still miss being held.
– I still miss knowing that I am loved.
– I still miss snuggling.
– I still miss the security of having a partner.
I feel so alone. I feel like I don’t matter at all. And then I feel like a really selfish bitch because so many people I know are going through shit that’s so much worse…
Years ago, one of our mutual friends told Bill that he could not imagine WHY anybody would want to be married to me.
(from “I love the 80s” by Megan Crane)
Jenna and I would totally be BFFs. Just saying. 🙂