Emails and texts have now become a significant source of axiety and continued depression. So much to the point I avoid my personal email and blocked her on texts. I just now scrolled back to late June emails, to discover what package of expletives awaited me. I’m waking up so my heart rate is nominal and I can take an emtional blow.Typically it’s a grab bag of downloaded thoughts or demands, or shear emotional barrage of whatever.
I breath a sigh of relief. Nothing. It’s Friday July 29th. Mark the day.
But my divorce is yet to finish. Next Friday is doomsday. Mediation. The problem with it is that I have personal emotion invested. This makes it harder to negotiate. Unless you’re a Ex Machina, which I love to be. I’m not. I got locked out.
Unlike negotiationing the footing of a 1/4-mile line seawall I built in Malibu with effervescent contractor, which was like fighting a shark who has black eyeys, you know there’s little emotion but just instinct in his fighting. She has motive, intent, and forethought. Immensely more dangerous to one emotional well being.