I’m not really sure what I’m doing here. It’s stupid o’clock, and I let myself nap for three hours around dinner-time and here I am.
Oh my girls, those of you who still have me in your feeds – or moreover – who still even check their readers (I don’t), how to begin to explain the journey of the last couple of years? Some of you are my friends on Facebook, so you know at least, that I survived.
Have you ever had to completely let go of everything?
It happens sometimes in life, I think. Something happens to rock the foundations of the faulty life you’ve built, and everything comes toppling over… every assumption you’ve made, every wrong choice, everything you believe about yourself and others.
But you see the truth, you know? You see what’s no longer adequate or right. And you rebuild yourself and your life, stronger and realer, and more beautiful, too.
I left my husband, as you know. It was messy. We both behaved abhorrently, though I maintain he started it, because it was the way he behaved afterwards – in his grief and anger, and most of all with a crushed ego – that started the sorry saga. I won’t bore you with the details – you’ve heard the same stories before, I bet: abusive emails, custody shit, restraining orders, mediation, blah blah blah… Needless to say, we don’t like each other very much anymore, though we are getting better at managing it for Jas’ sake (or T is, which was the main problem for me, really.)
And then, I guess, I had some kind of breakdown.
Now, I’ve always been a bit nutty (For example, who needs to breastfeed that badly? Someone with massive anxiety issues, that’s who) but the events following our separation took me past the point of control. I’ve had to come to terms with my mental health issues in a big way. It was really scary sometimes. I don’t have a clear diagnosis yet, but I do believe there were moments there when I was literally manic, and some where I was a bit psychotic too. For real, I mean, not in the colloquial sense.
I’m being treated now, with medication/psychiatrist/psychologist/etc. and I’m coming good. But I wasn’t able to work, and I am still not able to teach. I doubt I ever will be, even if I had the inclination. So yeah, massive financial strife, of course – and via my impending personal bankruptcy, a goodbye to the enormous debts I incurred in a decade of being the family breadwinner with a not-so-big income. But then, I had no real assets to lose, certainly not a house or anything, and it’s somewhat of a relief to be able to “start fresh”.
And also, I found True Love.
He was there all along, actually. A friend. We were never single at the same time, though, until a year ago – even in our early 20s when we met. It started as a secret amusement – I’d had my first post-breakup “fling” and had rediscovered sex. He was convenient, and trusted. And a hottie, always.
It became quickly obvious that there was something magical, something spectacular, there – but we stayed in denial for the longest time, feigning “friends with benefits”, then “casual relationship”, then “open relationship”. All rather gruelling for both of us really, but we were scared.
T. found out, of course. Things got really ugly for a while.
Still, we made it through all of it. And Jas and I moved into his place a few months ago.
And it’s wonderful. It’s like everything I always wanted but never thought was real. It’s like a rom-com, it’s like Paul & Linda McCartney, it’s Greek mythology. The man is The One. It’s perfect. Not he or I… but IT – whatever IT is that we make when we come together. Which, we are hoping, will be a baby very very soon.
So yes. Vomit, vomit. Love love love. My Twin Soul, The Love of my Life, My Best Friend… spew spew retch ad finitum.
You can ask questions now.