The Hardest Years

What was your hardest age?

Looking back over the years, I have to say that my hardest years were the years around 50 to 58. These were the years when I went through my second divorce and eventually had to retire from my job due to disability. These two events brought on severe depression and I had to battle my way through it every day. The failure of my second marriage was a tremendous blow to me, even though it hadn’t been going well for some years. But my husband didn’t want to try to work things out and that disappointed me. I had been going through depression and I felt as if he just threw me away since I wasn’t perfect. He didn’t apparently believe in his vows of “in sickness and in health.” He was very cruel about the way he served me with the divorce papers; it came as a total shock to me. There was no discussion; it was a done deal. I was crushed. My depression, of course, became worse. But somehow I managed to get through it and do my job, although I had to move to another city where I knew no one. I learned to make friends in my new city and made a life for myself there, but never fully recovered from my depression and migraines.

I could never fully keep up with my job, of which I had been so proud, and eventually I had to take disability retirement from the job that I loved so much. That, too, made my depression worse but I did the best i could and moved back to my “hometown” and started life over again. I made new friends again and joined groups and volunteered, but I have never fully recovered from these two events. That’s why I would say that they were my hardest years.


About mairedubhtx

I am a "youngish" grandmother of 15 year old twin granddaughter who has recently (is a year "recent"?) adopted Islam as my way of life, much to the consternation of my family. I love to read. I love to write. I am writing a book about my decision to revert, about my spiritual journey. I have another blog about stories from my youth, my parents, and grandparents. It's a blog so my OCD daughter will not be able to throw it out when I die. I suffer from depression and anxiety, for which I am treated, so my posts may be a bit dark at times. C'est la vie.
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One Response to The Hardest Years

  1. The Hook says:

    I don’t really know..
    Every year has it’s challenges, right?

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