This hit hard because that’s exactly the sort of shit my second ex put me through. To the point that I categorically refused to open any joint accounts. She would have just stolen the money.

You don’t marry a copyeditor for the lavish lifestyle, hence why when a millionaire offered to buy her a house if she left me, I basically said “go for it,” and we separated. It was a wrenching five years of recovering from all the forms of abuse she imparted – in addition to the financial shenanigans, she was verbally, emotionally and physically abusive.

Karma being how it is, she never got the house because he was an abusive fuck. But there was no way I was taking her back, so she lost everything. I mean, she kept my name and inexplicably still wears my wedding collar despite getting divorced in 2016.

The downward spiral I’m now in was started by a call in August or September, with her telling me she was getting remarried. I didn’t want her anymore, but it was unnecessary stress, exacerbated when she texted a month later to tell me what a fucking idiot I was for believing her. She wasn’t engaged; she just still wanted to fuck up my life while the van shit continued going wrong.

Then the election, where it became clear my job had a shelf life, and now I’m so stressed I usually look like I have Parkinson’s. Those 20-second stretches where I’m not shaking uncontrollably are a nice reprieve.