D.I.V.O.R.C.E.

3 years, 2 months and 11 days… and no longer married.

Apparantly it takes half the length of the time the marriage lasted, to get over the divorce. I wouldn’t say it took me that long.

Another fact I read on-line to regurgitate to you dear readers is that American research published in The Journal of Marriage and the Family has revealed that women who divorce are 60 per cent more likely to develop heart disease in later life. Men show no increased risk. Frankly, I think that is unfair, but I doubt my heart disease risk will increase because of being a divorcee, separating from Monsieur FK was a very good thing indeed, and I was more stressed out by other things going on at work. Not to say it was all easy and sorted and over it in a day.

I remember being really worried and apprehensive, and not knowing what to do. I slept on my living room floor for a year before I finally had the courage to get out of a pointless relationship that was making me unhappy. Afreeman and his lovely wife came and got me, I was shit scared, and took me in their jeep to a college room. Damn, it was lonely, but it was near a cheap bar and also better than the stress of going home to someone you really don’t like but feel forced to be with.

I thought everything would be OK, 21st Century stylee and everything, and nobody would have the old-fashioned divorcee=harlot idea, but I found a couple of people saying to me things like “Marriage is supposed to be forever you know” and that I hadn’t tried hard enough, or that I must have found someone else, or that they would only marry someone they really loved and wanted to be with forever, as though I must have gone into the marriage expecting it to fail.

Having only been married once, I only have one expereince to go by, and I do know some of the reasons I got married were not good reasons. 1. To have a party. 2. To change my surname. 3. To prove something to my father that I was fine without him 4. To prove something to myself that I must be OK if someone would marry me 5. To prove to everyone else I was successful- degree, tick, Marriage, tick. 6. I thought that I must love him a lot if he hurt me so bad, so therefore I must really love him.

Stupid, I know, but we all learn a lot from our mistakes don’t we. I’ve learnt about myself and about the reactions of others. I still have a hell of a lot to learn and to grow up but you can’t do it overnight. I’ve realised me ideas of marriage were oldfashioned too- I felt I had to stay and be unhappy cos I was married, I felt I had to act a certain way, I felt the pressure of others, I felt tied down. And I didn’t like it, and I was unhappy, and I grew to resent and hate my husband, and to feel ill just at the thought of him. I should have left earlier, I would have done if only going out I think, but I felt bad for his family, I felt bad for my family and I didn’t want to look like a failure.

Afreeman has the patience of a saint. I don’t know how often or for how long I moaned at him or cried beside him or just looked pathetic and childish, but he gave me advice, not always things I wanted to hear, but he helped me a lot just by being human. Not, you know, being all sympathetic and letting me droll on, sometimes telling me to do something the fuck about my life, or telling me to get over myself, or shut the fuck up, all of which I needed telling, even if I didn’t realise it at the time.

Other friends were great too, and some not so great (announcing my divorce in lab meeting, telling me they would never leave a marriage, yeah, I found out some people who were my real friends). Sabe-a-to-madre, a Mexican friend from the lab, came with me to collect some things from the flat my husband was living in that I was still paying for (go figure), when I was too scared to go myself. People came and sat with me while I drank and smoked and stayed for longer than they needed to as I didn’t want to be all alone.

My friends from London came up for a day and just spoke to me and gave me hugs, Amanda, Emma and Diane. My friend TopBoffin gave me hugs and an ear to talk to and invited me out and got me doing things, infact to one raucous event where I met MrC.

So I’m glad I’ve been there and done that and bought the t-shirt. It was all a bit crap from the start though really, – none of my British friends or any family came to my wedding in Canada. My mum made me have a second wedding in Scotland where I looked like shit and just hated it and was already pretty embarassed about my husband. The Fuckwit (yeah, I can still think he’s an idiot and have moved on? I don’t hate him anymore, I just feel sorry for him and the poor girl whoever meets him next. Dickhead). I booked a holiday away with my best friend in America over our first wedding anniversary- she and I had a great laugh in Barcelona, a so much better time than I would have had with him. But, I can see I probably wasnt very nice to him either. By the end I really didnt want to be with him and it would have showed on my face and in my behaviour. I spent all the time I could away from home and woud slag him off to close friends, something I’m not very proud of. If I didn’t like him I should have got out of it then, not waited and drawn out the agony, acted like his mother and been a total idiot for ages. Man, was I stupid.

But, it all adds to my degree in the University of Life- Divorce101.