Family Affairs

My divine blog friend in Tanzania called Janelle who writes one of the most extraordinarily moving and wonderful blogs I know – no more so than her last entry about gratuitous violence and the loss of a good man sent me an article a while ago written by someone I like the sound of called Anne Hill. It was all about her thoughts and advice on surviving divorce. I hope she won’t mind if I take a little of what she says and adapt it accordingly, because of course every individual situation is different.

Actually, to be honest, I’m really not sure that I am in a position to write a post on “How To Survive Divorce” because I am certainly no expert on the matter. Sometimes, like today, I can still feel fragmented and tearful. My ex husband is moving away on Wednesday. To his new 6 bedroom house with his new family. To his new life. Even after all this time apart from him it feels strange. The children are unsettled. My daughter said her teacher’s are being very sympathetic – which means she’s milking the situation for all it is worth at school. Things will change. I don’t know how yet. I don’t know if the children will want to spend more time with me because his house is too far away from their friends or less time with me because their all year round heated swimming pool is going to prove to be a major trump card.

ANYWAY. BACK TO THE POINT.

HOW TO SURVIVE DIVORCE (hopefully)

1. Your friends (and family if you’re lucky) will get you through it more than you will ever know. Don’t ever take them for granted. They will be there with you on your long journey back out of the black hole.

2. Be prepared. You are in for a long hard slog. Rumour has it that it takes half the time you were married to begin to get over your marriage. If that is too awful a prospect then bank on it taking AT LEAST four years. The first year is almost better than the next one. You will probably be a bit unhinged and angry in the first year and do irrational things and get drunk far too often. You may even have sex with a virtual stranger and then freak out about it and decide that you have caught some hideous sexual disease. In the second year reality bites and it’s all highly depressing because not only are things just as hard but you’re exhausted from Year One. If you’re lucky, by Year Three the drama has died down a bit (sadly not in my case as ex husband started going out with my boyfriend’s ex wife and caused disaster number 2). By Year Four you are able to see the wood for the trees and can finally start reassessing your life.

3. In the early days make sure you get out of bed every day. Sometimes your body feels so heavy it won’t move. It would have been so much easier to curl up into a ball, ignore the kids, have a quiet nervous breakdown in a corner somewhere. But it doesn’t work like that. You have to “face the dragon”. Deal with the shit. Go to the meetings. Brush your hair. Remember to eat. Remember to breathe. Pick your kids up from school. Put your make-up on. Fill out that complicated form. Go to that party on your own. Do the stuff you dread. You have to. It will make you stronger and consequently it will all get easier. You will do most of it on automatic pilot and then be amazed with yourself that you got through it. I managed to learn an entirely new trade during my most traumatised time. It saved me from myself.

4. Be kind to yourself. My old school friend wrote to me at the beginning of the whole process. She told me to do just that. To treat myself as if I was going on a date with myself (which frankly had no appeal whatsoever – I hated my own company – thankfully she invited herself along on most occasions which helped hugely). Have a massage, or go to an exhibition or a film on your own.  Put yourself higher up your list of priorities.  Sometimes it pays to be selfish.  Try not to feel sad that you have no one to do things with or to buy you presents, buy yourself some stuff. Treat yourself to things. It’s important. Do the things that give you pleasure and forget the rest. Go on a cooking course, a knitting course, ride wolves, sail, play poker, write a book. Whatever. It. Takes.  Buy a big comfortable bed and spread out in it by yourself.  It doesn’t take long before sharing it again becomes a bit more difficult….

5. Cut the crap. Don’t go to everything. Do some sifting. Do the stuff that makes you enjoy for whatever reason. Let go of the social events that no longer work for you and of the friends that take more than they give. Drop the stuff that’s taking up too much time and getting you nowhere.

6. Most importantly keep your sense of humour. You will find that different friends are there at different times and for different reasons. Some can take you out and make you laugh and push you in at the deep end of your new scary life. Others are there for when you find your feet again and want some semblance of normality. It won’t always be funny, but there is always a funny side to be found. A different perspective to look at.

For the most part things will get better and easier. I still have my moments where I wonder how I got here – my “Je Regrette Everything” moments, but I guess the heavy pit in the bottom of my stomach gets lighter every year and I’m still here. Still breathing. Still laughing. Still hoping.

Sometimes, when you look at what is going on in the world and what other people are going through, having the time and space to mourn for your marriage is almost an indulgence. I am still a very lucky person who has three lovely children and a roof over my head and lots of fantastic friends and lots of lovely stuff to do and, and, and, and another year has gone by in a flash. But it’s springtime in London and even if it weren’t you might find it helpful to remember that “in the kingdom of hope there is no winter”.