My psychiatrist's PA  was putting me through a battery of  tests for depression today--she's going to prescribe yet another anti-depressant.  They never work for me because they put me to sleep, but who knows, maybe the latest version, Cymbalta, will relieve some of the gloom.  One of the questions she asked was:  "Do you think you're worse off than other people?"   I had to answer yes, and not because I have no money, or am too fat, or have diabetes or any other misfortune and I have plenty.  Somehow I accept those as the luck of the draw.  No the reason I feel I'm worse off is because of my horrible divorce.  

I see so many divorced couples years later actually getting along, doing what's best for the kids, acting civilized.  After all my husband and I are educated people, both thoroughly therapized.  We're hardly trailer trash.   But here  I am six years after he left and my life still could be on the Jerry Springer show.  "Younger husband leaves older wife for even younger gilrfriend, they raise the kid and turn her against her mom."     This is actually my situation and I can't even believe it.  I always thought my life would be civilized, that I would do the right thing and so would everyone else I know.  I always tried to be fair, or at least reasonable.   But my divorce has been so incredibly ugly, and it's getting worse (long story with emotionally disturbed kid and me being treated as the scapegoat for all her problems.)

  Here I am on Father's Day--not even speaking to her father.   Some divorced moms actually give their exes Father's Day presents.  I can't imagine doing that.   I tried, I swear I did, but they made it impossible.  Somehow, even though he cheated and left me for her, it wound up being my fault.  Go know!   Sitting on the pity pot today.  Hope Cymbalta works.