S. Some milestones have been hit recently - we split up three years ago; he started his new relationship almost immediately with my old friend; my father died three years ago unexpectedly and my eldest daughter went to university. Thus in 2013 I had to bear grief for my father, my mother's grief, the end of my marriage, betrayal, empty nest syndrome without one daughter and husband; begin the fight for survival through the divorce courts and try and earn more money. People often tell me how strong I was but to be quite honest this cap does not fit as I could not see any any other way.

I have two weeks left before I have to move out. The last four weeks have been full of packing, wrapping, decision-making about objects, reading old things, chucking, dump runs and constant men coming round to quote on doing various things - sad things like clearance..and disconnection...breaking up..removing. A concrete experience of the breakdown of a marriage. One thought kept on returning to me tonight as I found a box of old pottery items that my daughters had so proudly created years ago. Moments that could have delighted my ex and I if we were still together. Instead I admire them

I feel very trapped at the moment. It's funny how under stress people involved can be distorted into caricatures / archetypes falling into good or bad camps. Thus my estate agents seem distinctly wolf like to me, my buyer a vulture with dark staring eyes, my ex a large slippery boa constrictor and my solicitor a hero. They all feel rather large, gigantic in fact and I feel very small, like the archetypal little old lady who is a long-term tenant in a house sold to a property developer. There is another monster on the block - the sales Progressor who spends her day bullying and harassing