On Tuesday this week my calendar in my phone alerted me of an event.

I had asked, or rather, told my ex husband that I needed a divorce five years ago on Tuesday.

It was a toxic waste site of a marriage and like all things nuclear it was buried deep down while encased in cement.

I still have to work through parts of my marriage.

Things will randomly pop up that I thought I didn’t have a problem with.

Turns out, I do have to work through those things still too.

It’s so far buried that I don’t even like bringing it up, but five years is a good chunk of time.

We were together around five or six years and now it’s been five years since I told him I was wanting a divorce and moved out.

Just as much time has passed as we were together, and it passed quickly.

Maybe it’s because of the psychosis.

The last five years have been a whirlwind of mental illness issues and symptoms too.

I’m so glad I saw my worth and left him when I did.

I knew my mental health was failing, but I didn’t know what was happening until I started hearing my ex husband’s voice in my head after I left him.

How stupid I am.

How I don’t have anyone who actually loves me.

That I’m incapable of love.

So in a way, that relationship really opened my eyes to who I am and what I deserve.

I deserve happiness.

And I wasn’t happy in that marriage.

Neither of us were happy.

And the blackouts had started before I left my ex husband.

He just thought I was acting out.

But I knew I was blacking out, and that something bigger was wrong.

I just didn’t know what for another year and a half.

40 years is a long time to be having undiagnosed psychosis episodes.

It just got so bad at the end.

It was all so fucking gradual and all so fucking terrible and quick at the same time.

Before I knew it I was in and out of psychotic episodes again and dealing with a failed marriage too.

So when things pop up that I still need to work through in regards to my marriage, it makes sense.

It might take me a while to place it, but that’s where it’s coming from.

There are just so many unresolved feelings that I have for my ex.

And it’s hard to believe it’s been five years now.

Sometimes I want to get out and date.

Most of the time people are disappointing and dating can hurt.

And I don’t know if I’m quite ready to open my life up like that again.

Not yet at least.

And that’s okay, it’s just that time is ticking by.

I don’t know exactly what I’m waiting for but I’ll hopefully know it when I see it.

The one thing I know is that I’ll probably never get married again.

Not legally like that again.

It’s too much pressure.

And when it fails, it just blows up in my face and becomes a legal matter and that’s annoying as fuck.

I don’t know tho, because if I meet the right person, none of that will matter and I’ll be safe, right?

I no longer try to predict the future and try to just take it as it is.

I don’t know what my point is for this entry.

Maybe I don’t really have one other than a notification that some time has passed since a traumatic event.

I guess my divorce wasn’t entirely traumatic though.

The marriage was traumatic, but not the divorce.

It was more empowering than anything.

I felt like I was going to get my life back.

And I did, sorta.

The psychosis really put a wrench in my spokes.

I’ve been frustrated with myself this week, just stressed more than anything about the hearing on Thursday.

And when this notification popped up I actually felt like I should celebrate and go out or something.

But I didn’t.

Instead I decided to write about it and see if anything needed unpacking.

I started this entry about four or five times, but I kept going on tangents as to why I hate him, and that’s not productive.

I know by the end of it, we hated each other and that was for sure a mutual feeling.

If I would’ve stayed in the marriage because I didn’t want to admit defeat, I’d probably be in a psych ward now.

He didn’t have the capacity to help or believe me, and I couldn’t even help myself let alone think about another human and how my actions and behaviors affected them.

And that’s not fair for anyone involved.

By the end of my marriage I slept on the couch for thirteen days straight before he asked me if something was wrong or if I was upset or something.

That’s how dysfunctional we were.

Two weeks.

I know I shouldn’t have played that game and seen if he would ask me what was wrong, but at the time he didn’t have the capacity to understand and I just wanted to make sure I was making the right decision.

And I did.

It’s been hard not to talk major shit about my ex husband in this entry.

I haven’t shed the best light on him still and this has been gone through 100 times to make sure I’m not being a total asshole.

In all honesty I’m a better person because I went through all of that.

I wouldn’t wish a loveless marriage on anyone, but I have a lot more empathy now.

I should’ve trusted my gut in the first place, but I thought I was in love.

– Keren