I can’t keep doing it this way

The end of my marriage came suddenly on a January day in 2019. I can only explain it like those stories of a pet who for years sits at the train station or bus stop and waits for someone who never returns.

Unlike the pet though, people aren’t and never were interested in helping the poor lump of a man sitting there lost. Not only did I lose “her”, I lost my little normal family. Sure weekend visits are super, but people that haven’t lost in a divorce have absolutely no understanding. Oh sure there are those mutual divorces, or so they say.

I realize I have no right to feel as bad as I do. Not in a world where children die of cancer, disfiguring accidents, or born with disabilities, but this is my pain. At 50, like a lot of 50 year old people, I had to deal with horrible losses. I lost my parents and a daughter and had other family members and friends die or deathly sick or worse.  Unlike a lot of people, I never had big dreams or fantasies, all I wanted was to raise a family like my father did. Sacrificing my own happiness for everyone else’s. Making a safe and secure home and life for my family.

I got to live that dream for almost 20 years, then some other man came along and convinced my wife that I was doing it wrong, too cheaply, and not exciting enough. She sat and picked at issues all marriage have and justified her betrayal. Then this person, my whole life and soul, decided the only way was total destruction.

I have heard so many takes on why women do what they do and how she did it to cover up her guilt and betrayal. That whole just rip off the Band-Aid kind of thinking. Of course, she was instantly in a new relationship, no chance for regrets and on the “sugar high” that it brings. As time went on, any chance of thinking it was a mistake disappeared.   The new people he brought her in contact with all wormed hateful thoughts of me into her mind and now some unjustified bitterness is all I get from her. I’ve become the bad one in all of this to her, my kids, my family members, and friends, so much so I have started to believe it.

I have lived these last few years lost, alone, and sad. I’ve been to therapist and psychologist and take the pills to prove it. It has, but really hasn’t helped. I don’t have actual support though. Facebook doesn’t count. It’s nice to hear from people, but a hug, a drink around a campfire, or just talking shit with a couple friends goes much further. I have gone without that since day one and I can’t keep doing it that way.