Writing the letter

How on earth do you tell people that you are separating? I haven't found a form of words that sounds OK. And then there's the 'Why?' question that follows - and there's NO WAY I have the words for that :(
So we have written a letter to send to our closest friends. All I have to do is sign and send.
And I'm paralysed. I can't do it. I don't want to tell people - but I can't live in this semi-secret world.
Sign the letter, place it in the envelope, put a stamp on it, post it - and I can't.
That's why I'm on neat Gin tonight. Somebody please make this situation alright - please.

A confession....

Because it seems too much of an effort, I haven't bothered to shower today or wash my hair. I do it daily, so I don't think I'll offend anyone with my odour. I got dressed so that I could take him to the station (things may have ended between us but I still love him, live in the same house as him and we are very civilised about it all) and when I got back, I just hadn't got the energy to get undressed and into the rather ropey shower.
I KNOW I mustn't give up on myself,but right now the temptation to crawl into bed and stay there till I die is very strong.

Learning to rent

As if a lack of sleep, constant anxiety and nausea weren't enough, I now have to decide where I want to live for the next part of my life. Buying isn't an option - so renting (which seems such a drain of money) is what I have to do.
But where? It's too expensive here; I need somewhere that will be for years rather than months; and what happens to the furniture that won't fit????
I really can't put this off until the last moment, but I don't know where to start (and nor do I want to).

Dates

I'm sitting here feeling physically sick. He has suggested a date by which we leave this house. I can't get my head around it. It seems so soon- and how on earth do you pack a house, find a long-term let (in an area where you want to settle) and begin again?
Everything is moving too fast - it's a juggernaut that is bearing down on me. I feel as though I'm in free fall with no parachute or soft landing.
Is there anyone out there? Are you bothering to read this? Do you have anything to say to me?

Facing Facts

Oh God, Sunday night was awful. It was that 'we need to set a time scale' conversation. I don't want to set a time scale - I don't want this. A lot of tears, a lot of Bourbon consumed, very little sleep.
The financial implications keep haunting me.
And then I sit and look at what we have. It's not the big things - but the pictures, the objects, the things bought with (what I thought was) love. Neither of us will be able to afford a place where all these can be cherished. And I hate the idea of consigning them to the rubbish. Yet I know that when I die, no one will want to have to sift through them.
It is all so hard. I am tired, and weary, and worn out with tears.
But its worse for him. He doesn't cope with so little sleep, he isn't eating properly, his job is stressful (I wonder how much that precipitated all this....) and I worry about him. And he doesn't want me to worry about him. And yet I worry that his mental health is getting fragile.
I want a magic wand. I so want a magic wand......

A Parallel World

This is surreal. We live in parallel worlds. We wake up in parallel rooms, then converge on the routine we've had for 16 years of going to work, live our daily lives, return and eat together and return to parallel rooms.
Except he's not eating much, and that makes it all feel worse. I'm not quite sure why I continue to cook, except I have this weird feeling of guilt. No- I can't explain it, verbalise it, give any substance to it. I just feel guilty that I am the one who has let this marriage down; that I should  have known better.
And as I avoid talking, he is slowly (or maybe not so slowly) stripping everything away. Sofa cushions tat I lean against are no linger plumped; he refuses to close my bedroom (oh so recently it was OUR bedroom) curtains without my permission. Boundaries I do not want nor do I recognise are being erected.
And I daren't let myself think about the future - because I am so damn scared and insecure. He made so many promises which are unravelling; I believed so many things which it now seems were illusions that I couldn't see through.
OH HELL. I HATE THIS.

Cutting the ties

I'll admit it - I'm bemused. Less than a month ago I was blissfully unaware of the impending storm. I'm wrestling with the implications, still unsure how or whether to fight back.
But as far as he is concerned, the ties are being cut. Email addresses are being changed; boundaries are being drawn (he cleaned upstairs today - but wouldn't hoover our - I mean, my - bedroom).
Our marriage has had little spontaneity in terms of going out for the day - he's always had work to do, other calls on his time, pressure that would come from taking time off. Yet today, when I have been out working, he has trundled off, not returning till well after 9.
Maybe I should have insisted on more 'us' time. But it was easier to walk the road of least resistance.
And now I know that was wrong. Why didn't I see it before? How did we spiral to this so quickly (or is it only quickly in my mind?)?
I am so sad, so frightened of the future. I don't want to live without my best friend, the companion I love. But he doesn't want to live with me.

25 days in.....

Time and life have taken on the most surreal quality. Last night was ghastly.
When I got in, I went into his room, drew the curtains and turned on the light. Apparently that's crossing huge boundaries.
Have we really got to a point where what I thought was an act of kindness is seen as an invasion? Less than a month ago we shared a room, a bed, a life. He's disconnecting so quickly that I can't keep up with it.
Alone in my room, I howled. I thumped my my arm so hard that there are now bruises. Why? I guess I was trying to turn the searing emotional pain into physical pain. I just ended up with 2 lots of pain.
And then he came in and just sat with me as I cried. We talked through my tears. I must have got through at least a box of tissues.
We care for each other. He couldn't leave me to sob on my own. It would be easier if we hated each other, if there were recriminations hurled around. But there aren't.
And then this morning - after yet another disturbed night, with four hours sleep and a waking time of 4.45am - he brought me my usual cup of tea.
I want this to be a nightmare from which I emerge. But if it isn't, then I would welcome death.

I had no idea...

The end of a marriage is not something I thought would happen to me. Bit of a smug git, I suppose. Certainly a naive git.
And three weeks ago everything - in my eyes - was fine.
I had NO IDEA that on the second day of our holiday - in the house that was to be our retirement home - he was going to tell me that the marriage was over.
But he did. And I'm still trying to get to grips with how we got here.