Safe Space

Ironically, there’s always a lot of emails from people in similar situations or difficult marital situations asking me for advice.  It’s nice that people think I have advice to offer although I would have thought it would be the opposite; I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t think I would be going to a bloke whose wife ran off with the milkman and ask him how to keep a relationship strong.

Rather than have a post about my going ons, I thought I would invite others to write in.  Perhaps you’re in a messy situation, maybe you’re going through a split and struggling, single and feeling the pressures to get married, post-split and finding it difficult to start again, divorced with kids and can’t seem to figure out how to manage that disconnect.

A lot of the time, I don’t feel I have the right advice to offer, mainly because it’s not a situation I’ve been in.  I would like to use this post as a platform; a safe space for anybody whose a bit lost and wants to try to connect with others in the same situation.  If I feel that I have any peas of wisdom (because let’s face it, pearls are too expensive) then I’ll offer it up.

Please feel free to pour your heart out in the comments section and equally if anything resonates with you then lend a helping hand.

Tweet Tweet

I decided to enter the world of twitter today.  It took some help and involved a kindly cousin coming over.  Said kindly cousin found my blog picture hysterical to which I had to remind him that when I setup this account I was crying into my keyboard, not particularly fussed about images or blog names.  Hopefully he felt suitably guilty afterwards (hehe).

A new blog image however is in works through another blogger, yes cousin, I was aware the image isn’t quite in keeping with the fab rep I’m going for.

Anyway, the point of this post, follow me on twitter!  If you can’t be bothered scrolling down the sidebar to find my handle (scrolling does take effort) then it’s @DamnFabDesi.  Holler.

Run Away, Run Away as Fast as You Can

I know there will be those who think I have run away from my problems, leaving home and that life behind.  I won’t allow you to say that about me though.  To run away would mean that I never faced my problems head on.  I did and dammit I worked hard to get through it.  The pain, the memories, the God awful humiliation of being dumped in my work car park.  I laugh now at the absurdity of the situation, I mean who does that?  Dumps their wife after a 10 hour shift in the middle of her work car park.  It is beyond bizarre.

It took two years before I felt myself rise again.  Two years of emotional turmoil.  Pain can be silent and it can be cruel.  It tortures you from one day to a next, never allowing you to be prepared for what to expect.  Then it stops.  Just like that.  All of a sudden, It becomes easier to breathe and life feels good.

I left for myself, not because of someone.  I left to prove to myself that I could do it.  I left to show myself that I was not weak and broken by what happened.  I left and found myself.