Divorce In The Time Of Coronavirus

I was served divorce papers smack dab in the middle of the coronavirus outbreak. To make matters worse, my husband was IN the house when it happened. Now, we’re stuck under the same roof indefinitely.

I’ve got a lot of things running through my mind, as one can imagine, being a mom of two kids under 3. Whether it’s keeping them safe and healthy or wondering how they’ll adjust to a split household, I can’t rest without knowing they’ll be taken care of. With the news of a divorce on top of everything else going on in the world, my brain has gone into overdrive. Having to protect and show up for my little ones, keep them entertained, harp on my 50+ year old parents to stay indoors… Having a respiratory illness myself – and having had asthma issues the days leading up to being served – these papers could not have come at a worse time. And yet I can’t help but wonder what kind of person has the gall to file for divorce at a time like this? It has been only a week since I answered that fateful knock on the door, 15 days since we’ve begun social distancing. And yet it feels like a nightmare that has lasted ages, with no happy end in sight.

I have been having mild symptoms on and off, but can’t tell if it’s a cold, asthma, or allergies. Maybe something more? I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for 3 years, and now I’m forced to look for work. But how will I find anything when so many businesses are shutting down, and even laying off employees, amid this crisis? I’ve been removed from family bank accounts and this divorce will surely drag with the courts being closed and all.

To say that I don’t know what to do, what to think, is an understatement. Most days are fine, great even, but once I turn a corner or go downstairs, he’s there. And I’m reminded of how cruel the world and its inhabitants can be. I wanted this, too, at some point – I’m sure lots of couples have early on in their marriages – but it burns knowing he gave up so easily. Chose his career and self-gains over me. Over us. Our days of social distancing were great leading up to that dreadful day; he even tried to rekindle lost feelings. It worked. We worked. But he gave no warning that he’d filed, no heads up of what was coming. Nothing but a final attempt at getting screwed before screwing me over.

I’m left no choice but to look him in face every day and smile.

One week down, an eternity to go.

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