Yes, and some days it is just shit-a-holla ….

divorce_fuck you

 

I hate it when people ask me “so how are you doing…” and not add the “with the divorce thing, you know” …..

I still don’t know what to say.

Some days I am super happy. I have the remote control.  I can make star angels in the bed, and can poo with the door open. The world is pretty much my oyster.

The next day I don’t want to get out of bed.

I am not sure if I miss or hate Kennith.  It could be a bit of both.

Yesterday evening driving home I saw him running along the side of the road.

In a split second I had two thoughts “drive the fucker over” and “shame, I should stop and give him a lift” ….. but I understood that both would probably have a knock on effect to him running the Comrades, and instead chose to just drive on.

I hate that he has toddled out of this relationships straight into another.  And seems happy.

I want to kick him in his hairy little face and say “look what you did fuck wad….” but I guess he did not do it all by himself.

Why can he not have a relationship where they are fighting and throwing cat food at each other?  But in a non sexual way!

Why can’t he be muttering “she is a dumb bitch” under his breath ….. instead of looking so delightfully peaceful?  I am seriously ……….. seriously

I want to ram a fork into his shoulder, just to see if he will react.  I will blame her of course.  I know I can do it, I figured out how to sneak into their house …. I know which door squeaks, I know where the forks are kept.

I can be in and out of them in under 8 seconds ……. at the moment I am still at 14 seconds.

But I train two or three times a week, and my times are getting better.  I am only going to stab him with a fork, it’s not like I am going to shoot him whilst he is on the crapper. Relax people.

You will know when I am unhinged, trust me, you will know.

I hate that my kids keep telling me how wonderful she is – I don’t know her, and I still want to drive her over.  If my kids compare her to me one more time, I am seriously going to start to take Xmas money away from them and tell them J stole it.

On other days I sigh and I think how peaceful life is and I am glad K is not lonely, and I am glad he is dating someone who seems to be nice to my children.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.

I never think that.  I’d like to.  That would mean I was potentially a nice person.

I just lie there and go fuckity fuck fuck.  Fuck it all ….. “now bring me wine and chocolate” I scream at no one in particular.  Hence I get neither.

I am fine for several days, and then I am not.  It might have nothing to do with Kennith it might just be PMS, but fuck that, I am blaming him for it all right now.

I do not want Kennith back.  I do not want him to die.  I do not want him to explode into 1 000 little pieces.   I am not sure what I want.

I lie in the bath and sip my wine – I have changed it up to a rosé – it makes me feel pretty and girly.  And I still get drunk at about the same rate, so that is really all that matters right?

Life is good.

Life is kak.

Life just is.

My constipation was pretty bad on the weekend ….. just filling space here people, just filling space.

Some days I am so happy I sing along to really shitty songs.

Some days I cry at radio adverts.  While the radio is off.

Other days I have MUSIC going so loud in my ear phones, I physically prevent myself from being able to think of anything.  It also drowns out the sound of my kids arguing in the car, so really it is a win-win all round.

Last night I climbed into bed.  The girls were already in my bed – this is kind of where they sleep most of the time.  Sadly it reflects on my social life.

I got into bed, I was tired, exhausted, and the cat was trying to find a spot.  Isabelle’s chubby slightly damp little hand came over my shoulder and held onto my arm, and for that little slice in time, I forgot everything and felt pure joy.

Then the cat clawed my foot, and I tried to kick him, missed and kicked the end of the bed, and the moment was just that little bit less magical.

As said before, fuckity fuck fuck.  With a double fucker fuck fuck at the end.

 

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Oh for fox sake …..

I have really been struggling to sit down and compose a blog post that I actually publish.

I have written dozens of “almost posts” and jotted down all sorts of shit and stuff — but I have not got to the point where I feel comfortable to post anything.

There is a lot of things running around in my head at the moment.

To be blatantly honest most of the things that are creating noise is me trying to adjust to this new life being a “divorced person” in a relationship that is over, and all the fine details hat comes along with that.

Getting divorced is pretty easy.

Being divorced is a bit of a fucking dog show, without the dogs, but with all the shit left on the field.

In the bigger picture I have been struggling with what I can talk about publicly and what I should hold close to my chest.

I am not a big fan of airing dirty laundry, and there is seldom a way to do it in a healthy manner.

At the moment I feel quite raw, exposed and vulnerable.  All the usual bravado that I try to wear as a protection is seriously dented and lacking.

I keep thinking okay I will write about “that” and then when I start to jot down some words, and those words form sentences, and now and then paragraphs, then I look at it and go “no, I can’t put that out there….”

Then I sit there quietly as the inside of me is this bubbling chaotic space, and my mind feels like it is being knocked around inside my skull.

The part I used to love about blogging – is now the thing I am struggling to remain true to.  I have always believed that you should blog what you feel, blog what you think — what you really think — blog with honesty and integrity – ignore who you think may read your posts.

I do not blog for the people who read my blog, that has always been a slippery slope to venture along.  I prefer to blog and ignore who may or may not read it.

It sounds selfish, but for me it is the backbone of what I love about blogging.  And what I love about reading some bloggers work.  Honesty, and blogging for the sake of writing what is running around inside your head.

Today was a difficult day.  I felt really gutted today. I felt a bit beaten up.

I felt a bit like life had taken me by the gonads (yes I imagine I might have them on some days) and swung me around so that my head kept hitting the wall of the very small square imaginary room I felt I was in.

It’s 12:10 am, the day is at it’s end.  Thank fuck!!!

I have spent the better part of the last 5 hours covering school books.  That wasn’t the reason for the stress, and mental confusion – it was actually the task that kept me focussed and prevented me “going off the deep end.”

I took some time out and went to sit outside – it is a lovely evening weather wise, and stared up at the stars, sipped my wine and thought duckety fuck, duckety fucking fuck!!!

Then I stood up, brushed some of the dirt off my pants, and thought “bitch, get your shit together, GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER, you do not need this level of kak …. and you need to go and pour yourself some more wine, because you have bought some crazy arse beautiful wine glasses …..”

And then I said “fuck yes!”

oh for fox

 

 

What did you get for Xmas? I got a divorce. You?

{I have changed the settings, so you will need to click through to the site to read the full post …… }

Kennith asked/made it clear that he wanted a divorce.

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On 20 December 2013.

I thought we were talking about the fact that I had got a dog (Parker, the French Bulldog}, and not really taken his thoughts regarding a new dog into consideration – and had gone ahead and got a dog.  That is actually what I thought the issue was about.

It appears I was mistaken.

This is Parker, this is not what the disagreement was about.  This is not what we are getting divorced over.

Parker_9179

Parker_9069

It was an evening that proved I was far off the gist of the conversation.

It also proved I had absolutely zero SPIDEY senses.  None it seems.

I did not see it coming.  At all.  No idea.  I still had not grasped we were talking about divorce until about 30% into the conversation – I kept thinking well this is about Parker.

Talk about a slow learner.

You know when you brain is going “kehhhhhh ……” {said in the accent of the waiter from Fawlty Towers} and not quite getting what it is that you are actually talking about?

Just like that.

I really would like to say that I took it like a real trooper, but I would be lying.

I felt like a truck had side-swiped me.  I still do.  I have given up looking for the truck registration.  I have chosen to just lie on the road and go “aaaahhhhh fuck!” in the hope another truck will come along and just finish it off.

I walk into rooms and wonder what the hell I am doing there, because I had forgotten.  Brain = blank.

I cried the ugly cry.  When your mouth does that shape that it is not meant to, and you cry so hard that the tears actually can no longer get out because your eyes are scrunched so hard.

Just like that.

I went on to convince myself that I had somehow heard wrong and Kennith did not actually mean he wanted a divorce after 20 years of being together.

We had not had an argument.  There was no screaming “fuck you” down the passage.  As far as I knew no one had “stepped” outside the relationship.

Well I am convinced that is actually how it is.  I was being broken the news whilst I was thinking we were maybe arguing about something totally different.

Xmas day came and went.  We had a lovely day with his cousin, and I was exhausted by 14h00.  I felt there was this elephant in the room that I could not mention, and was screaming inside – every minute made me die a bit more.

I took the kids and headed out to my mom in Hermanus on the 26 December.  I tried to take the time to digest what was happening – and just to have some quiet time in my head.

My mom let me sleep late.  I could spend time just staring into the distance.  She just let me be.  Bless her cotton socks.

My brain still told the rest of me that I was sure that Kennith did not mean it. He was just having a moment.

I would get back and things would be okay.  Strained but okay.  I had convinced myself.

My mom kept asking “but why?………..” and I did not seem clear on why, so she kept looking at me like I had confused the shopping list, and just needed to really get a grip on things.  I just sat on the couch and sipped wine, and stared into the distance.

She let me.  And for that I will be forever grateful.

I realised that Kennith had not suggested divorce as a conversation starter.  He had told me we were getting a divorce.

He explained his reasons, and though I did not agree.  They were his reasons, and I need to respect them.  I guess that is why it is called a divorce, and not a pleasant picnic discussion at Kirstenbosch.

I returned from Hermanus and was sure that if I walked in with a certain swagger and confidence, then this entire “divorce” thing would disappear.

It seemed no amount of swagger would do the trick.

He moved to the spare room.  He took the large screen TV.  I was left wondering what the hang was happening.  Having to tell myself in no uncertain terms that THIS WAS ACTUALLY HAPPENING – then have a bit more of an ugly cry into my pillow.

Divorce I was told was still the plan.

Then we started talking about child custody, and where we would live and all sorts of things that are without a doubt, what I would call a “fucking nightmare!”

My head is screaming.  I tried to look like it was all well within my grasp of things to absorb.

It wasn’t.  It isn’t.

This entire thing is an absolute nightmare.  NIGHT freaking MARE.

It seems however it plays out when I am awake, which is less than ideal.  When I sleep I dream of other things, so it is a nice getaway.

I am beyond the point where one goes “so how are you otherwise?” – I am a wreck.  There are no buts, there is no silver lining – I am fairly sure the time for unicorns and them farting rainbows is just about over.  This people is the time of hard decision, pain and anguish.

2014 is going to be a very challenging year. Winding a 20 year relationship down, has got to be challenging.

I don’t know, I have never done it before.  I am thinking that it must be “less than ideal” – my guess is it will be less then ideal. no matter how we much we set out not to “be ugly” to each other.

Translate hard as “what the fuck” – I just do not know how I will find the strength, the resources, and the mental and emotional power to make it through.

But one must.  Mustn’t one?  What are the choices?

Lots of difficult decisions to be made. Lots of anguish.  Lots of screaming. Lots of crying.  And lots of things that make me want to have a saline drip on wheelies with wine pumping in my veins 24/7.

But that might not present well to the lawyer when chatting about child custody.  So I may need to go and delete and few posts off this blog.

I will be the villain one day. Kennith can be the villain on other days.  And so it will go.

If we are lucky we can get to the other side without totally destroying our children, and maybe having a smidgen of respect for each other.

And a thin layer of sanity.  Granted zero bank balance, and my guess is a fairly low sense of self esteem.

I cannot do cliches.

I cannot do silver lining.

I cannot do “things will work out” … I just cannot.  If you tell me things aren’t over until …. oh, you know the rest, please please please try not to.

I know you think they will make me feel better, but the only thing that may make me feel better is if I was not having to go through a divorce in 2014.

Be there for my rants.  Be there for my silences.  Be there for my epic breakdowns and when I question sanity, and my place in the universe.  Just be there for me when I need bolstering and when I need a “quiet in my storm.”

It is all a bit of a cluster mind fuck right now.

Now you know.

Excuse me. whilst I have a long lie down.

Tune in again a bit later, normal broadcast will resume.

I wish that this was my sentiment – I really wish it was …… but maybe later …. or maybe never.

storm

How was your Xmas?  Did you get anything that surprised you as much?

{rules of engagement – it needs to be respected that both Kennith and I are going through this – I would really appreciate if there were no slandering comments, and just being a bit of a dick comments.  I am sure that both of us are to blame, in different ways, but at the end of the day we have three children, and though there might have been a decision on to be with one another, we need to respect that we are trying to do the best that we can.  And survive the day.  So, no shit talk!  ‘kay?}