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Becoming Sadly Single At 50 (part one)

by Ross E Fortune Lombardi 3 months ago in single
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From a mentally ill, E6 economic bracket, fat male person point of view.

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Becoming Sadly Single At 50

From a mentally ill, E6 economic bracket, fat male person point of view.

Fifty years old and my 20-year-long marriage has ended.

This is my story so far… (part one)

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THE START…

Early 2022…

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My week so far...

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1

Managed to lose the only nice hoodie I have.

That I got last Christmas

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2

Today, Ruined my only nice going out trousers

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3

Managed to both ruin AND lose the one and only marriage I had.

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So

On the whole...

A really crappy weak!

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LESS THAN A WEEK LATER…

Of Course, Eventually, I had to find my own place,

So after looking at various flats, I find a bedsit that is £425 a week including electricity and water rates.

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If I take this bedsit that I am viewing today.

Then I estimate my moving out of the current family home and into my own space very soon.

At a rough guess

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Fryday 6th

- "Yes" and some paperwork

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Saturday 7th

- More paperwork

- Tell kids the sad news

- Don't worry! They never read my Facebook stuff!

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Sun 8th

- Lots of foot-tapping as I pace up and down.

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Mon 9th - Wend 11th

- Flat landlords painting and doing stuff to the bedsit. It is a very small space - I doubt they would need as long as 3 whole days.

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Thus 12th -

More paperwork perhaps?? I don't really know. This is a brand new situation for me! So, I am just guessing.

Get some money together into a neat crumpled heap.

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Friday 13th-

Move-in?

Somehow moving into the new digs - on "Friday the 13th" - the classical "bad day" for the superstitious.

- Feels correctly poetic and tragic.

If this level of sadness is going to ever happen then by poetic writers law it should be on a day such as Friday the 13th.

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Of course, the question of a guarantor for the landlord to hold potentially actionable comes up.

Someone who will promise to pay my rent if I screw up my life beyond recognition and I am, myself, unable to meet my financial commitments to the landlord.

My first reaction is,

No problem,

I am sure I have plenty of friends and family that will help.

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I was wrong!

So, very wrong!

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RE:

My relationship break-up.

How the world sounds to me right now.

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Ex-Partner

"don't worry you will be ok"

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Family member A

"don't worry you will be ok"

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Family member B

"don't worry you will be ok"

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Family member C

"don't worry you will be ok"

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Family member D

"don't worry you will be ok"

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REAL-LIFE

"We need a guarantor for the flat"

"In case this tenant fucks up and does not pay the rent!"

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Ex-Partner

"HELL NO!"

"HE IS FAR TOO BIG A RISK!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO PAY HIS UNPAID RENT IF HE FUCKS UP!"

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Family member A

"HELL NO!"

"HE IS FAR TOO BIG A RISK!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO PAY HIS UNPAID RENT IF HE FUCKS UP!"

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Family member B

"HELL NO!"

"HE IS FAR TOO BIG A RISK!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO PAY HIS UNPAID RENT IF HE FUCKS UP!"

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Family member C

"HELL NO!"

"HE IS FAR TOO BIG A RISK!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO PAY HIS UNPAID RENT IF HE FUCKS UP!"

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Family member D

"HELL NO!"

"HE IS FAR TOO BIG A RISK!"

"I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO PAY HIS UNPAID RENT IF HE FUCKS UP!"

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Me

"What happened to you all saying that I will be ok!"

"That this change will be good for me..."

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Everyone

"Well, yes"

"But we kinda have to say that, don't we...?!"

"It does not mean that any of us are stupid enough to really believe it!"

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ME:

"Errr..."

"Ok...?"

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I have now become a type of “pass the parcel” game,

But as some sort of financial live ticking time bomb.

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<facepalm>

See!

THIS!

THIS is the sort of crap that makes me not like people!

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Then there is the sticky and slippery question (no puns intended) of getting “back out there”!

Dating again,

Slowly trying to build my confidence back up after a 20-year marriage.

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I never realized that buying a cheap Boots Chemist 1£ 15p pack of 3 condoms...

...Could make a 50-year-old man want to break down and openly weep in public as he approached a cash counter to pay for them.

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PS.

I don't really think I will get ever have a chance to use them.

But now I am single Not having any would be right up there, stupidity wise as - not wearing a seatbelt in a moving car - Not getting life insurance when you have a young family, - or - making a rough best guess when eating random fungi in the forest, when you do not really know what you are doing.

- So, Just in case, I now have some!

- Although I am pretty sure I have even forgotten how to even kiss well, after all this time!

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But buying them was still traumatic,

I meant that I really was single now.

The fact that I was single now “Became Real” to me.

I hate the idea of being single.

I do not really want to touch anyone else.

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UK BENEFITS: A Slight Segway:

Due to my long-term mental illness making me unable to hold a job, I had to apply for certain benefits, in order to be able to live.

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Despite having mountains of evidence as to my mental state:

As I transfer to my own Universal Credit,

They are making me jump through hoops to stay off an "able to work" category.

They say I need a "Sick Note" from the doctor.

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So, I grit my teeth and force a smile,

While knowing full well that my local MD is not qualified to access my conditions because it is a specialist area.

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So, I phone the doctor to make an appointment to get a sick note.

The number directs me to an automated booking system, that asks for basic detail, date of birth, phone number etc

But it comes back with "Unable to authenticate your details".

I am clearly registered with this Doctor, so there must be a glitch.

So I go to phone reception to try and talk to a human.

Now I can only ever get an "engaged tone".

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I am pretty sure that if I went down there in person,

The response will be,

"We can not do it in person,"

"you have to phone..."

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When I find it hard some days to even brush my teeth...

If I found a growth or had any other serious symptoms,

Where am I supposed to find the mental strength to bother getting those symptoms checked?

When "letting yourself go" is so much easier?

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Because if they are relying on my "will to live," or any "fear of death"

Then they are placing a fool's bet!

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OVER A MONTH LATER,

EARLY JUNE (ish) 2022,

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I eventually manage to sort all the crap out and move in,

Roughly 2 weeks-ish later, Father's day 2022 rolls around and my Dad checks to see how I am coping.

This was my reply to him…

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Dear Dad

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To answer your question on “how I am emotionally handling the divorce.”

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I will be honest Dad...

... It is pretty dam rough!

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Just psychologically being in a grey, tiny, bedsit,

Knowing that THIS is MY life Now.

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To know that I am extremely unlikely, based on a combination of My financial status, My mental health, My obesity, My none existent employment prospects (due to mental illness), AND My age (50), to ever enjoy loving sexual relations with anyone ever again!

(Other women near in age group want a man that "has his shit together" - which let us face it - that can never be me!)

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I am totally screwed, life-wise!

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I will be getting slowly ever more "odd" over the next two decades,

As the lack of human contact slowly suffocates to death, what very few poor social skills I still have.

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Doomed to becoming just yet another sad involuntary male celibate statistic,

That will die old and alone in this, or some other bedsit, while on benefits, 15 to 30 years from now.

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My future is not bright or hopeful.

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My future is grey, grim, hopeless and grotesquely, moribundly average and un-noteworthy.

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A rotted body, found six weeks after I died,

Having choked to death while snacking on some cheap arse, store brand cheesy puffs, while watching dodgy, morally questionable, porn.

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A life that silently slid out of view with no discernible value of any kind.

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That is now my fate.

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But apart from all that

I feel just fine...

Thanks for asking

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How are you?

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There might be a (part 2) to this sometime in future...

We will have to see what may yet happen...

!

!

single

About the author

Ross E Fortune Lombardi

Writer. Gamer, Goth

A (Constantly Failing To Be Funny) satirist!

[email protected]

Mutare non est meum

Cantus moriar

BLOG:

http://lombot.co.uk

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