Everyman’s Divorce: The Separation or “Get Out and I’ll Leave Your Crap in Hefty Bags on the Front Porch”

Everyman’s Divorce: 

My name is John Smith.  I’m just like you.  Middle aged, pretty good father, fun to be around, make a decent living.  I’m also divorced.  I’m not a lawyer, a doctor, a psychiatrist or any kind of professional therapist.  These are a guy’s words meant for other guys.  These articles chronicle my journey through the horrible roller coaster ride through the marital problems, the separation, the divorce and most importantly putting my life back together.  That’s right, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

However, this is one bitch kitty of a tunnel.  It is a horrible painful process that will seem to go on forever.  The agony that will be inflicted on you by your ex-wife, her family, your family, your friends and even your kids will seem like to much to be borne at times.  And indeed it is for some.  Listen to what has happened to me, learn from the mistakes I have made and for God’s sake do it better nest time dumb ass!

The Separation – Or “Get out and I’ll leave your shit in Hefty bags on the front porch.”

First and foremost, separations do not work.  Don’t take my word for it, pull up the statistics.  The problem with separating is you learn to live without your spouse.  Think about it.  The longer you don’t have your wife around, the more you get used to handling life without her.  The flip side of that is true.  Before you know it she is unclogging the disposal, taking out the trash and finishing up those home repair projects you somehow never got around to.  And you?  By God you remembered how to iron, find yourself cooking meals at home and learn to French braid your daughter’s hair because her friend at school thinks it cool.  Thank you so much internet!

So call it what it is, it’s a pre-divorce, not a separation.  My pre-divorce began on my thirty-sixth birthday.  My ex and I had been talking about a pre-divorce for a few days.  I had to go Shreveport on business over my birthday.  We were going to have a long talk when I got back and try and figure things out.  I was dead set against a pre-divorce, she was all for it.  At the end of the day I called my ex.  Instead of Happy Birthday, I was kicked out of the house.  When I got back into town, all of my clothes were in Hefty bags on the front porch.  But at least the ex and her mom were kind enough to separate the dirty clothes from the clean.  In fact, having my clothes separate was the only thing that worked in my “Separation”!