EM’s Guide to Survival of the Disastrous End of the Affair

I’m still a bit fragile from everything that’s gone on over the last few days – which have, in fact, felt like years, so as far as I’m concerned my postage *for real* on this site is just warming up. And it will take time… right now i can’t really get my head around any fantasies, you’ll forgive me, i know…

However, as each day goes by, the hurt fades, the hate subsides, the love seems less real and I feel more human. These things are due in no small part to the following things. Sit back, relax and enjoy the…..:

Evil Minx’s Guide to Survival of the Disastrous End of the Affair (aka TITW)

1. Friends

Friends whom a person can trust are the most precious commodities a woman can ask for. I would say girlfriends, but that would exclude Funnyman, who is one of my bestest friends in the world.

  • Funnyman nodded, hummed, giggled, gasped (I shocked him! How amusing…) and finally commiserated with me the whole way through The Incident That Was (TITW). [The irony of the first 3 letters being what they are is not lost on me. At all. Not with my chest scaffolding.] Funnyman, God bless him, is a tonic and a sweetheart and is probably the only man – apart from Current Husband – who has ever told me I’m beautiful and actually meant it.
    [And i purposely do not include *him* in that collection. *He* told me how beautiful I was, as I lay naked beside him, hair tousled, mascara smudged, glowing in the way a woman only can after being made love to. *He* said it to me as we walked along the beach, hand-in-hand, looking out over the setting sun, with the wind in our hair. *He* said it over and over until I almost believed him – and then *he* did what *he* did to me. So obviously, *he* couldn’t have meant it.]

    ::Sorry about that. Small 3.30 a.m. relapse and well-up. Am better now::

  • Also essential to my emergence is Ochemma, who has not only emailed with me, back and forth, all day today, dealing with my myriad neuroses, but who generally encouraged me and my creative writing development through TITW, and helped me pick up the pieces at the end of it. A mentor if ever I had one, and one of the best writers and/or poets I’ve seen in blogland to date.
  • My wonderful pal Glinda the good witch who i cannot thank enough, who has been my rock all the way through TITW and the nightmare that is my marriage, so non-judgmental and supportive, and such an amazing friend. And when I say “Walk this way..”, she does!
  • Hot Chick and Groove Mamma – where would i be without you? If i didn’t have Hot Chick to be completely amazing, i don’t know what I’d do. And if i didn’t have Groove Mamma to totally sympathize and understand every garbled word that comes out of my mouth, ditto.
  • Last – and certainly not least – Dr Feelgood, who’s coming over from London to hug me this week, and who totally understood everything I was going through. having been somewhere similar (although not quite as awesome a betrayal).

And this isn’t even mentioning the friendly commenters who have welcomed me. You’re all really great. I tell you people, as far as friends go I am truly blessed.

2. Listening to the right kind of music

After any breakup, the tendency to glue yourself to a CD player is one that can barely be avoided. Music will always soothe the soul, and temper a mood, but when your heart is broken to the extent that you’re permanently nauseous, the worst thing you can do is listen to sad, slow love songs. THE WORST. So this morning, on the way into work it was Dire Straits Greatest Hits (i skipped Romeo and Juliet) and on the way home it was Squeeze – 45s. I mean, how sad can you feel listening to Cool for Cats?

[Incidentally, this is something of a research project for me. I would be very interested to hear any other recommendations of non-soppy music that can raise you out of the blues.]

3. Nailbiting

OK, this one might not be for all of you, but it works for me. I raise my hands high and admit that, yes, even at the age of 36, I still bite my nails. I can now stop for far longer periods of time than i used to be able to do, and most of the time they look good. But right now, they’re all receding, ’cause I’m chomping away. The satisfaction that ensues from reducing a perfect nail, down to a bitten stub does not last long, but the momentary elation helps ease suffering a bit. Also I’ve perfected the art of biting nails but not down to the quick – hey, I’ve had 36 years to do this – so they grow again pretty fast.

4. Diary

I started a diary. Not just enough to keep this blog on the go (and the other one that doesn’t deal with my personal life on such a level), I also write a diary that i keep on my hard disk. This is – after my friends – possibly the thing that has most helped my sanity restore itself to something vaguely resembling its former glory. It’s like mental filing – once I’ve written down a thought, it ceased to spin inside my mind like some demented toy. I bless whatever powers are out there that granted me the ability to write and the love of doing so, since over the last month or so it has literally been my salvation.

[I also discovered a new ability – fantasy writing. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to continue it without someone to focus on – and I’m not going back to focus on *him* again – hey, my self-respect is re-emerging too! Cool! I will try though, and that’s a promise. Just not quite yet…]

5. Self-convincing

Talking to yourself – and often sternly – is essential. Not out loud, preferably not in the cereal aisle of the supermarket, but a constant self-reassurance that you don’t need him, you’re so much better off without a scum-sucking, lying, deceitful, treacherous son of a bitch bastard arsehole fuckhead like him. I gave myself a severe talking-to in the shower at the gym, in the car (after having bawled my eyes out for 15 minutes) and I’ll keep doing it whenever necessary. Like now, for example. It’s 3.00 a.m., I’m all alone, Current Husband just left for a business trip and I’m sad and alone. The writing is helping, but then I’m going outside for a smoke (health freaks, hold your fire, i know how bad it is for me, right now i couldn’t give a shit) and you can bet I’ll be counseling myself on the folly of dwelling on what seemed to be but wasn’t.

That’s it for now. Further survival tips as the survival itself continues.

EM xxx


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