Category Archives: Saddness

Kissing Frogs (part 1 – of many?)

Posted in Disappointment, Holidays, Internet Dating, life, Optimism, Saddness, Zombies by

So I’ve been back from NYC for almost a whole week. I Facebooked the NYC experience so not sure if I’ll ever get back here to update in any more detail.

The title of this post relates to me deciding to dip my toe into the Internet Dating scene before leaving for NYC. Some could have argued it was too early but I thought it would be an interesting way of distracting myself from mundane life and, at worst, something to blog about. One thing I know about myself is I like having a man in my life. It’s not necessarily a good thing and I have at times wished it wasn’t so… but it is what is. Probably some psychoanalysis required to figure that one out.

So I joined RSVP and after a very short time made a connection with someone who was amazing from the very first email we exchanged. I couldn’t quite believe it. By the end of that first evening I had let down my guard completely and put aside all the rules of internet dating to set up an all-day first date for the following weekend.

I was apprehensive but excited. That Sunday with M was wonderful. We just felt right together, relaxed, natural, happy. It was a superb day. I was reeling that night and the first two weeks as we flirted via text and FB; it was hard to believe and very exciting.

Leaving for NYC was a bag of mixed emotions as I was extremely excited to be going on this much longed for girls’ trip but also a little sad and apprehensive at leaving this newly found “love affair”.

Things went weird pretty early on (an innappropriate FB message from me after a few drinks: a rookie error I was told) and our communications soured somewhat. Nothing irrecoverable I thought.

Upon coming home I was extremely tired, jet lagged and overly emotional. A more sensible person might have decided to keep some distance until a more rational frame of mind returned. I am not that sensible person.

To cut a long story short it’s all over Red Rover. Worst part is that it ended via a few cranky text messages, not even a phone conversation or a face to face. I am sad because this felt so special and because it really didn’t get a fair go. But I’m not into flogging dead horses.

So as I dust myself off and eye that saddle again does anyone have any internet dating tips or possibly a brother/neighbour/co-worker who likes short women with big boobs and a penchant for Dr Martens boots and zombies?

The hardest part

Posted in Marriage, Saddness, Separation, Thoughts by

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Because every day is getting a little easier I wanted to take a moment to note what has probably been the hardest part of this process of loss and grief. It’s what I’m calling the “phantom limb phenomenon”.

You know when people have a limb amputated they often complain of still needing to scratch an itch on the missing body part. Well I am experiencing a similar issue. My brain knows that the husband formerly known as Big Jay (McNulty for future reference – for those who know The Wire) is no longer there, both physically and mentally. I know this fact because a part of my brain keeps an almost constant monologue going on this topic, despite my best intentions.

Knowing that he’s gone doesn’t stop me forgetting. Numerous times each day something will occur which makes me remember that I’ve forgotten. I’ll be in the kitchen making school lunches when I’ll think of something that he needs to do and I’ll go to call out to him and think “Doh!”; or a school meeting pops up and I’ll automatically agree to attend before I realise that I no longer have a live-in childminder for such occasions.

I guess this is a very natural and understandable part of the process. When you’ve been with someone for so many years their presence becomes something similar to that of oxygen. Utterly important yet utterly invisble; totally taken for granted. Unlike oxygen I will not die without his presence. But like a newly missing limb my body and brain are learning every day to live without, to compensate, to adjust, to find ways to fill the holes. This is not as painful as it may sound, at least not for me. But it is certainly an adjustment period that I am very consciously living through right now.

Now you’re just somebody that I used to know

Posted in Family, Marriage, Optimism, Saddness, Separation, Thoughts by

It is really bloody hard to write those words about the man you have spent almost twenty one years of your life with; the man you saw as your life partner, the father of your children, the one with whom you have shared the ups and downs for as far back as you can remember and the one you had hoped you would share the future with.

If you’ve been wondering why Deep Kick Girl has been silent of late it’s because she’s been busy watching her marriage and, to some degree, her life shatter with absolutely no prior warning.

I don’t need to go into details, not because I am shy about publicly sharing the hard truths of my life but because for some reason I want to protect the dignity of the husband formerly known as Big Jay. I could probably argue that his dignity is not worth protecting but I know within myself that there is nothing to be gained from putting all the gory details out into the cyberworld for all eternity.

The bottom line is he has chosen to walk away from our marriage, our family and our future to chase a mirage. I have lost all my respect for the man I loved so dearly not so very long ago. It is a surreal feeling. I do not recognise him when I look at him and currently I am avoiding looking at him because the sense of loss and disbelief is overwhelming.

It’s been an emotional rollercoaster for the past five weeks but I have stepped off now and gradually things are coming back into focus. I no longer feel like I have been punched in the stomach every waking moment. I no longer have the words “how” and “why” and “no” doing a non-stop conga line around my brain. I am no longed wrecked with constant anxiety about how we will cope financially, about how the kids will cope with not having their father around every day and about how I will manage to put on the bloody huge king sized quilt cover without another set of helping hands.

My predominant emotions right now are indignant anger (the physical need to send text message along the lines of “you f*&king useless c^%t… how dare you do this to us you complete f@#king imbecile” is quite gut wrenching at times) and also a sense of hope and optimism. Every day I feel stronger, clearer, more confident and more excited about the future.

It is unbearably painful to realise that the man you thought was your life partner doesn’t love you any more and doesn’t even like you enough to treat you with some respect. But it is also incredibly empowering to know that you can and will survive. It is painfully wonderful to realise that you are surrounded by people who truly do love you and will support you and your children through thick and thin. It is this outpouring of love and kindness which has made me cry the hardest during these past weeks.

I have been down but I am certainly not out. The kids are doing well and they are really awesome little people who make me swallow any thoughts or words of the “I have wasted the last twenty years” variety.

There is now less than five weeks until I fly out to New York with my little posse of middle aged women gone mild. When this first went down the thought of this trip made me sick – how could I go and in any way enjoy this holiday when my life was in ruins? But now I feel crazy with excitement; my sister awaits, my besties by my side… how can I not look forward to what will be ten days of fun and great memories in the making?

There is a red hot coal of sadness inside me which will take a very long time to exhtinguish but it is now becoming insulated by layers of anger, optimism, hope, happiness, excitement and love. There is no underestimating how much of a healer time is, I am experiencing that magic every single day at the moment.

I will always choose to count my blessings and keep the events of my life in perspective and I will always choose to celebrate life rather than wallow in fear, anxiety or self pity. That is my revenge.