See the pyramids along the Nile

I slipped back into my hole (aka ‘the pit of despair’) for a day or two, but thanks to a great pep talk from a beloved sister in faith (preach it girl), I’ve crawled back out.    I will try not to be discouraged at how quickly I spiralled downwards back into self doubt.  It seemed that it took only a couple of people (or the same person twice? hmmm?) suggesting I look inward for answers to my marriage problems to momentarily derail me.  I was not derailed by the thought of looking inward, but rather by the presumption that I’d not already thought of that. In fact I’ve done nothing BUT look inward for 10 months... and I have the therapist bills to show for it.  One does not pay $160 per hour (Damn you SunLife for deeming this expense ineligible!) to have a counsellor tell you that your husband is a big meanie.  We have sisters, friends and mothers to do that for us.  We go to counsellors to help us understand our part in the breakdown, to determine what we could have/should have done differently and to figure out whether our insistence on hope is delusion or faith.  I have gone virtually every week for 10 months.  That’s the equivalent of a luxury cruise through the Mediterranean, or a trip to see the pyramids in Egypt. So instead of going on the vacation of a lifetime, I’ve spent countless dollars and hours becoming intimately acquainted with every crack, blemish and defect in my character.  I’ve also taken a weekly divorce class (twice!) to understand my false expectations and mythologies around marriage, and I’ve experimented with antidepressants to see if the real me was buried beneath some mountain of anger, trauma or bitterness. (It wasn’t!)  Without exception, every doctor and counsellor with whom I have consulted since my marriage ended has stated that I have taken on far more than my share of the blame for the marriage breakdown and that it is past time for my husband to step up to the plate and (and I quote) ‘be a man’.  There is so much more I could say about my husband bailing on the marriage, but I’d prefer to take the moral high ground and let my quiet words convict him gently as he reads this.  G'nite all.