I've been a bit remiss in my blogging lately. Not only is my operation preying on my mind and I am yearning to join my re-enactment friends in the field, but the postman brought more weight to my shoulders.
I got an invitation to my brother's 25th wedding anniversary party. I had to decline the invitation due to my impending operation but I don't feel I would be a huge loss as there will be family members who will be glad of my absence.
But if it's A's 25th anniversary then that means it's mine too as we were married only three weeks apart in May 1984. Wow, the 25th anniversary of my disastrous and abusive marriage. While chatting about it on the phone my mother dismissed it saying she didn't count my marriage and didn't even consider it.
But it was possibly the most difficult miserable 14 months of my life, culminating in my running away at night and hiding out at a friend's house, followed by months of seeing my ex-husband at every turn making me into a nervous wreck. Additionally, he refused to see his own faults and refused me a divorce. After a year of this, the pain only eased slightly when I sacrificed myself and my reputation for a divorce in desperation.
Of course, the memories of my marriage lead, inevitably, to thoughts of my unborn child. He/she would be 24 this year. With that child my life would have been SO different.
Opening one little unknowing door can lead to so many rooms wherein lie the memories locked away over a lifetime.....
All this on top of my anxiety about my knee surgery has made me most introverted and quiet. Crawling under a rock seems a good option at the moment.