Sometimes I think nothing really has changed since I separated

I wake up each morning in my enormous bed - bought at unwise expense and on my insistance - in exactly the same position.  I am lying precariously at the very lefthand edge of the mattress, taking up a tiny portion of the available space.  My body can't help it:  all those years of sharing a bed and trying to avoid contact with the person beside me has left an indelible memory and even if I start off in the centre of the bed, I migrate, crablike, to the edge during the night, just as I always did!

At times, it feels like a granade has exploded in my life.  I remember the feeling of euphoria when he left.  Amongst all the sadness and fear I felt this excitement at the opportunity of a fresh start.  I assumed everything would be different, better, calmer but it turns out it's not! I vowed to keep the house tidier now that he (the person who messed everything up) had left, only to discover that it was me, mildly passive, cautious, lazy that allowed the house to remain a mess.

Whatever transformation I thought separation would wreak has not ensued: things I thought were wrong with our relationship have turned out, chasteningly, to be wrong with me.  I haven't emerged from the cramped cocoon of my married life to become a beautiful butterfly: rather, I am sitting in the remnants of the dusty cocoon, worrying that wings don't suit me!

Outside the protective bubble of my marriage, I have felt the fear for a future in a way I never comtemplated, and a vulnerability I never thought a person like me would admit to.  I'm scared of illness, accidents, financial security.  The experience has made me more cautious, more compassionate and more aware of how life can unravel in unexpected ways, not always in our favour.  I have become more aware and grateful for the kindness of friends.  They have kept me afloat, got me drunk, cooked me dinner, built my furniture and made me laugh. 

The main lesson here is that yes it's a painful process, it's not a barrell of laughs, and you do emerge from it a different person - but in my case not necessarily a more together person as most people would have you believe.  It took me along time to realise that initiating a split doesn't obviate the need to mourn it.  There is a loss and it's mixed with guilt and an annoying feeling that you 'should' be happy, to make the whole sorry mess worthwhile. And if I find that I'm not happy, I ask the question - has anything really changed.