I am on edge. I feel it. The slightest push and I could plummet headlong into an abyss that I may not recover from. People don’t care though. They attack with a relentlessness that is daunting on even the good days. They shove, yell, and lay blame. They think I’m crazy, emotional, and unreasonable. Maybe I am. Maybe I just don’t care.


Very soon it will be 6 months since my divorce was finalized, and even now I can’t say that I’ve done much healing. I haven’t allowed it. I know this, I know it too well. I have allowed myself to lean on him like a crutch and, knowing that he will never change, I still hope for it anyway.

The truth is….I don’t believe that anyone else will ever love me. I don’t believe that anyone else will ever accept my crazy, and my girls, and my family, and still be the kind of person that I want to be with. I set crazy high expectations for the “next” person… I know that this is so there will never be a “next” person. Every time I think it would be easier just to reconcile I get vaguely nauseated… knowing that I didn’t even know that I was his THIRD wife until after we were divorced. He will never change. I know this, but still hope and pray for it and allow myself to forget that daily. He will never value me, not really. But even so, my mind says “at least he is a known variable…. at this point you know that he is going to cheat, that he is going to lie…maybe the best you can hope for is to be ok with it and fix your family.”

It is funny in NC I had several friends that I could talk to… Liz, Tristan, the crew at Alice’s, Richard, Lee, Kathy, Caleb, Ken……. now, where I moved so that I could have more… I have less. I have family that is always too busy, I have “friends” that never think of my name when it comes time to do things….. I have my underpaid work, and my girls who think there mommy is always grumpy.

There is not a day that I don’t wish for NC… but what would there be for me now…. I have been gone too long to still have friends there, and all I would be doing is ripping my girls away from there lives and for what? To run away? To go to a place where there are more creature comforts and memories?

All I can do now is hope for a flotation device strong enough to get me through this storm. To hope that I can hold on long enough to fake being ok.


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