Oversensitivity Training

I went out to dinner two nights ago with my best friend (and temporary roommate) Tony, plus our other friends Shauna, Adam and Jake. We went out for Indian food and I knew I would not be the best dinner companion that night near the beginning. Everyone else was happy and hungry and I was cranky and couldn't find a way to sit that felt natural. There was an aggressively loud conversation going on behind us, filled to the brim with pop culture references that were just a little behind in their relevance. Our own conversation turned to loud drunks. Adam offered that he was a loud drunk, and I turned to Shauna and told her, "You're a screamer when you get drunk."
"You're a loud drunk, too," Tony remarked, "But then you turn into a silent drunk at a certain point. But if anyone calls you out on being a loud drunk, you get really snotty, like, 'So?'"
I knew it was just my mid-divorce over-sensitivity talking, but this really cut deep for me. I have spent weeks telling myself that the things Gino is telling me, himself, and various other people are not true, and that his assessment of my character is completely off. I am not doing a very good job of this, I am beginning to realize. I tell myself that I was a good wife to him, that I was patient enough and did plenty of things to make him feel special, but I believe these things theoretically. I have to have done something, I figure, to make Gino hate me this much, because it feels like he does. Having a major character flaw like being a loud, obnoxious drinker is more than I can handle right now.
I defended myself a bit more emphatically than is really necessary. I pointed out to Tony that he himself said that I turn silent at some point during a party, probably because someone (likely him) comments on my loudness and I become extra quiet to make up for it. If someone brings something to my attention, I usually try to correct it right away, before I annoy anyone else. I wonder how much this comment would bother me if I was not going through a divorce right now. It would definitely still bother me, but I might have held back a little more in terms of defending myself.
I long for a time in the future (hopefully near) when I will be able to just let things go again. I know that until recently, I was able to disregard a number of things that are intolerable to me right now. I was not always in full control of getting annoyed, but I was less prone to go back to it later and let it continue to annoy me. I feel like I have a low-grade fever all the time now. My skin feels warm to the touch even though my temperature is normal, and I have had a headache migrating around my head for five days. This is not nearly the worst I have felt because of this, though. For the first week after Gino asked me for a divorce, I felt as though my stomach was full of hot needles and I could not stay warm. I felt truly sick, and on top of this I could only sleep for a few hours at a time. This lasted at least two weeks, and I still had to be human, and a grown-up on top of that.
Getting divorced must be so much, dare I say it, easier for someone who does not work. Working through a trauma like this has its benefits, for example it is impossible to wallow in self-pity when you have to interact with guests at a health resort known for its exemplary customer service and make yourself look at least somewhat presentable each day. Even so, I cannot imagine how much more of a break I could potentially give myself if I had no where to be each day. I am not, of course, referring to any divorcees who have children. Being a mother, especially a single mother, is a tough job, much tougher than the world likes to acknowledge. I am talking about women who have no responsibility, whose needs are met to the fullest, who do not have to think about money, and who come out the other side of a separation a little bruised, but financially well-padded. I am not one of those women. I brought most of the money into the relationship, but I am not extremely well-paid, and currently my husband has not filed for divorce yet simply because he cannot afford the $255 dollar fee to do so. I will not be compensated for my time or for my emotional trauma. I will be rewarded with a bill from my own attorney, who is being more than kind and understanding with me, but who cannot represent me for free.
If Gino and I were super-wealthy, however, we might not be getting divorced at all. We might not have even met, in fact. If either one of us had made different choices and somehow become successful at our young ages, we might not be here because we might be on opposite ends of the country, or even the world. If Gino had gone through with his dreams and gone to school for video game design like I had hoped, he might have become a success and had no use for me anymore. Or, in another twist, I might have been the ambitious one, and found success in one of my creative endeavors, and had no use for him any longer, though I have a hard time imagining a reality where I fell out of love with someone as unique as him. I might be off-base completely in terms of imagining that more affluence would make going through heartbreak any easier. Having more things, more money and more material goods, just creates a list of things to squabble over, which Gino and I will not be doing because, after all, we have nothing.
In conclusion, my short-term goal is to find that place where I stop taking things so personally again. It's exhausting, and my friends don't need to worry about offending me. But, I will fully admit to one thing: I am a loud drunk. I am also loud when I am sober, so that should not surprise anyone who has met me. I am a loud laugher, a loud crier, and a loud singer, too.