If you are reading this and your relationship has just obliterated then I am very sorry for you. I also feel it is my duty to tell you that the pain you are currently experiencing, the all-consuming relentless tsunami of hurt you think you’re in, is just the beginning.
I am here today to say if you think this is as bad as it gets; you have another terrible thing coming sister.
Harsh? You bet your arse it’s harsh. I wish someone had have been that severe with me when my marriage ended, I wish someone had have said: “Pffft enjoy your time in Numb town because once the cold light of day hits your smashed up heart you are gonna yearn for Numb town”.
Well meaning people will tell you that things will get better with time. They’re right in part. What they should actually tell you is that it gets a bit better, then worse, then better, then you hit the depths of despair so hard you get a concussion then you stay there for quite a while and if you’re lucky inch by inch the dark places are replaced with light.
The day my husband moved out I was consumed with worry:
I worried that I would be alone for the rest of my life.
I worried that I was scarring my children irrevocably.
I worried that he would start seeing someone straight away who was pretty and smart and had perky tits and a flat stomach.
I worried about someone else seeing me naked.
I worried that my heart would feel torn apart until the end of time.
Most of all I worried about him.
The nights were the worst. During the day I was brave and made plans. In the evenings it would all dissolve and I would find myself in bed at 2am hatching plans to win him back.
I tried to stay in our house but I kept running into memories. Wedding photos, anniversary cards, our children. It was like a really tragic episode of Hoarders.
So every episode of Hoarders really. On a side note if you ever feel like the housework had gotten away from you, washing piling up etc, just watch an episode of that show and you will feel like Mary Poppins. Those people find dead cats under their shit, not just odd socks.
I did some things to make the space my own. I even purchased a brand new bed for all the sex I would be having with all the new guys I was definitely going to be meeting to have sex with in my new bed. The trouble was I only slept on my side. His side was always made and there was still the plate he had his toast on the morning he left sitting on his bedside table. Yes, I was living out my own, sad day-time movie.
I soldiered on. As long as I had my girls, my sense of humour and my excellent high paying radio job on SAFM I would be OK!
Then they cancelled my high paying national radio show, waited a bit, re-hired my co-host and replaced me with Sophie Monk. The bad thing about that, besides the fact I was no longer employed, is that she is exactly who I imagined my husband would be replacing me with.
Blonde, hot, great rack.
So I started irrationally hating Sophie Monk. (I know Sophie, we worked together and when I am in my right mind I think she is a tops bird. Seriously, funniest woman going around.)
It was the kind of hatred that, if I was carrying the washing and I heard her voice on the radio I would have to put the washing down so that I could hate her with my whole body. I managed to convince myself that Sophie Monk was the reason my life was going down the toilet. I had also convinced myself that Scott was probably at that very moment naked with her in a hotel and they were laughing at me and calling me fat.
Being unemployed and heart broken is not a great mix.
I hit the skids at that point, the day I moved in with my parents… Oh, did I neglect to mention that?! Yep, I totally moved back in with my parents. That day was the absolute rock bottom. The day Scott left was a trip to Luna Park compared to this. That was the day I realised that my relationship was truly over.
PAIN. OH THE PAIN. ALL THE PAIN.
(OBVIOUS PLUG ALERT)
This period will be thoroughly detailed in my upcoming show “Divorce the Musical” and set to music for you to laugh and or cry at so I will spare you from it for now..
Bit by bit I managed to get my shit together, I started going to counselling and wearing clean underwear again. As boring as it sounds exercise, no alcohol, eating well and surrounding yourself with things you love actually does work. I know, I am as disappointed with that revelation as you are.
It has been a year now and I can honestly say I am glad for all the shit I went through. Yeah I want to punch me in the face for saying that too. The break up taught me how tough I am. It made me re-evaluate the way I treat people and it also brought me closer to my family.. Literally, I am in the bedroom next door now.
So now I’m choosing to be hopeful, I am hopeful that I’ll be with a man who loves me for me and all that entails and if I don’t, I have my back up plan which involves a house on a hill,10 gay men, 6 dogs, a turban and shit loads of gin.
Chin up my friend, it is going to get worse from here. Then better then much, much worse but ultimately better.
Em will be performing for one SPECTACULAR night only her new show “Divorce the Musical!” during the Adelaide Fringe festival. Vincie (her Dad and guitarist) is flying over to Adelaide and everything! Click here to book your tickets NOW.
We’re giving one lucky winner and their friend a great night out to see Em’s show live!