The title is a quote from someone on facialbook a few weeks back. I mentioned I was in a bad place, but didn't say why. I haven't said why because I don't know what I can or can't say at this point.
My Wife, who I have been with for nearly 31 years has filed for divorce.
She announced this rather casually to me at the end of a visit to her and daughter back on January 22. We've lived apart since I was thrown out over eight years ago by her mother, sometimes close like when I lived a mile away, now far, as I am in State College. She has an attorney. I know this because I received the paperwork via certified mail yesterday.
I can't afford an lawyer. PSU has legal services, but they don't cover contested divorce (whatever that is.) I don't have money for child support. I don't have money for alimony. Sh*t, I've been selling things on eBay and relying on the kindness of others to make the rent. My pride is destroyed. She knows all this.
All this within a couple of weeks of my mum's death- what timing. Like, you've waited eight years- you couldn't wait a little longer? As of now, Daughter doesn't know. I don't know when she'll be told or how. She doesn't read (or even know of) this blog to my knowledge. That, and the whole legal thing, is why I haven't said what's going on using social media.
I'm a wreck. I hoped that we could ride this out, and that after her mother passed we could be a family again. I even offered to de-transition to save the marriage. Nope. Thing is, we've been together for over half our lives. She defines me in so many ways. I DON'T WANT THIS. I still love her. The idea that she doesn't love me anymore crushes me.
Oh, and thanks to the depression and Darkness, I've fallen behind in my classwork. My advisor is sympathetic, but for how long? I've made several calls to the Trans suicide hotline and never gotten through. (Shows you where my mind is.) I won't call others, as they geo-locate, and I don't need the police kicking in my door and throwing me in some useless psych ward, which I can't afford, to rot. Been there- done that. Never again. I've been staring at the ceiling a lot. Or walls. Or the tv. And not seeing any of them.
So, for those few of you who wondered, that's what's happening. It's all my fault for transitioning. My transition destroyed her life and mine. And I can't stop crying.
So today I drove down to see her. I wanted Wife to tell me to my face why she's divorcing me. She did. She wanted to divorce me back in 2013. It wasn't her mother who wanted me out- it was her. All these years, she's wanted me out of her life. 8 1/2 years have all been a lie.
Despite everything I've learned in my life, I'd held onto the one shred of hope that someday, after her mother died we could be a family again in some way. That we could grow old together. Once again, Hope is a lie.
Hope is a fucking lie.
Love is a lie.
My life is one big lie.
That's all.
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