Trying to Cope with Divorce

I’m 40 years old and instigated a divorce which my wife agreed to.

I made the most terrible decision of my life. Not with this divorce, but continuing to engage in completely selfish behaviour. I drank a lot. I smoked a lot, stayed out, and completely overlooked that someone actually cared for me in a way I found surprising.

Last summer was when the coffin lid slammed shut. It didn’t feel real. Neither did the previous year’s tragedy that openly tore a huge, weird, numbing hole between my wife and her family, and me. I never recovered from feeling so helpless and after my wife and I split, it seemed the right thing to do. A few months later it felt the wrong thing to do. We got back together, but it seems I made a promise that I immediately forgot about. Not because I was an idiot, but I made the right and wrong decision to pursue postgraduate study.

I was excited at the start of the academic year, but this gradually crumbled to a feeling of complete exposure. I hadn’t healed or addressed any of my issues that caused excessive consuming of anything to distract me from confronting the arsehole I was/am…

It was hard when I glimpsed a sympathy card addressed to my wife in which it stated she could get her bedroom back. That really hurt and brought to the surface just how fucking rotten I’d been. I just didn’t have it in me to be the supportive person, because I’d struggled to support myself for years. I was tired, broken, and had no self-esteem at all.

It’s been 8 months since we formally agreed to divorce. She’s moved on very well and I’m genuinely happy for her. My journey is rather different.

To sum it up, simply reading the word ‘Durham’ today brought me to yet another gut-wrenching episode of tears and devastation. Why ‘Durham’? Because her father would say something funny about it (Pink Panther). It’s these tiny little things that bring my world crashing down every fucking day.

Yes, I do really wish for the impossible and to go back in time.

Yes, I do really wish I had sought help earlier.

Yes, I do really wish I hadn’t fucked this up so fucking much.

Yes, I do believe we could be what we tried.

Yes, I do believe this divorce will help.

Yes, I do.



The Day I Killed my Wife

The Morning

Somehow you hauled yourself out of the bed we shared.

I stalled trying to help you overcome the dread.

Somehow you wanted to enjoy the day.

I stalled thinking I could show you the way.


The Afternoon

We walked through the park

Did I hold your hand?

As the sun shone and songs were sung,

Kids and mums,

Laughing, with dads with friends,

Everyone belonged.


You didn’t notice as I looked at your face,

And saw the pain;

I froze not offering you grace.

You drifted along,

And I tried to sing a song,

Feeling entirely out of place.

Why did I not hold your hand?


I offered a smile,

But felt so distraught,

As you walked a thousand miles

Through the quicksand

My quixotic refusal to offer you my hand.

You wanted to go

And I felt so low

Because still I didn’t hold your hand.


The Evening

Swaddled in clothes, numb;

Shattered gaze, stunned by his laziness;

A heartless response.


Broken down,

Struck by his refusal to share,

His abnormal gaze

Gives away his heartless response.


Slumped alone

Her heart broken, down to the bone, cut

His heartless response.


Sat alone,

Bile rising,

My heartless response.


Unable to move,

Upstairs she lies alone;

How am I a man, a man?

So heartless in my response.


Still sitting alone,

Paralyzed by his heartless response,

He picks up the phone

To plead to an end

To his heartless response.



If you have addiction issues and an unhealthy negative view of yourself, for god sake go and get help and don’t do what I did and throw away something so precious. Talk openly and honestly about how afraid you feel. Do it now before it’s too late. Call the GP, talk to the Samaritans, Mind, anyone.




Day to Regret

A deep lungful of absurdity exhales,

As memories wail,

With each sigh aloud;

As raindrops explode atop curled leaves

Turning away from sharp slices of a Northern breeze

Snapping the blue cheeks of those no longer found.


Anticipating the precipitation, falling,

Ending the waiting, stalling,

Hoping the train hasn’t left the station,

Departing without knowing the destination, falling,

The anticipation



Knowledge is…

Whilst complicated situations continue to present the world with increasing uncertainty about how to successfully and peacefully resolve situations without the need for sustained military involvement, I can’t help but feel despair towards proposed cuts to budgets allowing many people from various socioeconomic backgrounds the opportunity to question their history, and position in this world through further and higher education.

If the many are given opportunities to expand their circumstances this presents a dilemma to the powerful; the “unwashed” through the acquisition of knowledge are able to counter claims and introduce arguments against the accepted ways of doing things: Knowledge is Power and Currency.

This is similar to drug prohibition: if the many are given readily available access to things that stimulate considered and cynical questions leading to a provocative viewpoint, this may lead to an uprising against the staus quo.

So, take the loans, sign up to university. Fuck the cost. You won’t pay it back until you earn enough necessary to do so. And, if you play the game, you will never have to pay it back. Although the government will then have a massive shortfall in the revenue raised, they should have thought about that before we fought about that.