Jim moved out last weekend. I’m doing OK I guess. I’m coping. I’ve tried not to dwell on it, and have tried to keep myself distracted with cleaning up the mess left behind and begin working on the renovations I’d been planning to the house. My problem is when I’m left alone with my thoughts. My mind wanders and I replay past conversations, fights, things I should have said, or not said. Doubts eat at me. I know it’s not healthy, so that’s why I am trying to stay distracted.
Some days I do OK. Other days I wonder what the Hell is wrong with me? Why doesn’t he want me?
It’s stupid, I know. I get so mad at myself. Logically speaking, I shouldn’t be dwelling on it and know without a doubt that I tried everything to save a marriage that was failing. Despite my best efforts, I could not make him want to stay with me. I could not make him want to continue to be my husband.
But I still blame myself some days. I call those my irrational days, because that’s exactly what they are. It’s hard for me not to be emotional. Sometimes all it takes is something little, or meaningless, to set me off. And I’m finding myself avoiding those things.
Facebook, for example. I keep in touch with lots of friends and family on there, but it’s become a double-edged sword lately. Ever since Jim changed his marital status on there, various people would message me, wanting to talk about it.
It’s none of their damned business and I will usually, albeit politely, let them know that.
But there’s something that bothers me lately — “mutual” friends defriending me, who are staying friends with Jim. This week two people defriended me. (You see, I have a Firefox addon that tells me when a friend deletes their Facebook account or defriends me.)
Not a big deal, I keep telling myself. I knew it was bound to happen. But it bothers me, and I am not even sure why. I guess because I see that as someone else who doesn’t want me. These people were not really my friends to begin with. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I just can’t get rid of that nagging feeling, constantly poking at me …
I think maybe I think too much sometimes.