Not the worst, but simply difficult

Each moment of this week is tough and it won't get better for a short while.

I am alone facing the biggest change of my life. I'm 70. I'm not in great health at the moment, though that's incidental to the fear, shame, anxiety, and sadness i carry around like an ill-fitting backpack.

I know I'll make it through. I'll do my best to earn approval from all parties, none of whom will remember me. My name x-wife will, but only so that she can continue to dismiss, ignore, and insult me to others.

I am 70. I am clinically depressed. I struggle to complete each day. Those are enough reasons for you to turn your back on your failures—I am the poster child for what you are. The others have died or are impaired. Or simply hate you.

I needed your help and you were nowhere to be found. Then, and now. You were clear. You intended this and you always execute plans to end friendships before others dump you.

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