V***** recently raised the subject of divorce. It unsettled me badly. I felt myself sinking, grinding to a halt, adrift and utterly empty inside.

It's taken this long (two weeks) to link my reaction with abandonment. Finally occurred to me this morning whilst walking. It. All. Makes. Sense. Talk of divorce triggered the abandonment response - no wonder I was so shaken.

This realisation is something of a victory, this being the first time I’ve self-diagnosed. Surely worthy of celebrating yet heartbreaking to consider this must be close to my experience all that time ago after relinquishment.

This isn’t to diminish the notion of divorce from V*****. That has it’s own responses: grim acceptance; inevitability; determination to work on myself (‘find myself’ V****’s words); isolation; guilt.

I just saw this and it resonated:
Learn to love falling down
Learn to love the falling down, because it’s another chance to get back up; the getting back up is the most heroic thing we do in our lives.

I’ve needed this traumatic fall in order to rise again. I’ve almost been waiting for it to happen. Perhaps my whole life. I often fantasise about being heroic or at least worthy of admiration.

Why didn’t I completely breakdown being separated from the girls? Why only this grim acceptance? Why, within the context of many relationships, honest self-reflection was never possible? What happens to me, what do I become?

I always knew I was failing in relationships. I could see it happen in real-time. I have never been happy with who I was (am). It merely became part of how I’d define myself - Me, the one who cannot maintain a relationship. The unpopular, odd, self-conscious and awkward individual.

Reading The Primal Wound was pivotal for me and central to how I now make sense of my own experience.
I was relinquished as a baby.
I’ve fought hard against the recurrence of that trauma ever since.
I inclined towards solitude.
I yearned for love and acceptance yet was unable to handle the required vulnerability.

In adulthood I smoked weed heavily and masturbated for self-pleasure and comfort. In relationships it continued as a means to avoid the challenges of intimacy. I was emotionally demanding and particularly unkind to anyone on the outside whom I perceived as a threat. Those I should have loved, and been loved by, I managed to turn against myself.

This time when we separated I quickly stopped smoking (although I continue to struggle with masturbation). I knew it was time. I simply couldn’t justify it any longer. The result was almost immediate: Clarity of thought; painful but honest assessment of where I was at in life; renewed determination to work on myself towards being the person I want to be.