Are you facing an unwanted divorce? Struggling to believe that anything will ever be okay again? I’m not going to pretend it will be easy. But I’m also living proof that it is possible, even when the divorce is traumatic and its effects long-lasting.
At this point, you may be thinking, “Well, that’s nice and all, but HOW am I actually going to be able to find contentment within all of this mess???”
I hear you.
Believe it or not, that anger and frustration you’re feeling can be a powerful tool if you know how to use it. Somebody has done you wrong. And you’re rightfully pissed. And discouraged. Maybe even on the verge of giving up.
Nothing you can do or say can undo what they have done to you. It is impossible for you to take back what they have taken from you – whether it be your innocence or the years you shared.
But what you CAN do is refuse to give them any more of you.
Things started to change for me when I committed to focusing on my own well-being instead of my ex’s horrific actions and the possible motivations behind them. I began to see any thoughts directed towards him or bemoaning the rubble I was left as the emotional equivalent of feeding quarters into a broken vending machine. I wanted what I could see just behind the glass but no matter how much attention I paid, I was no closer to obtaining it. It was only when I started to “pay” myself, that things improved.
Your ex will NEVER be the source of your happiness. So stop looking for it in their direction. Focusing on what you have lost and how your life is now different will not make you feel any better. However, doing the best with what you have WILL lead to a better outcome.
Do you want more specific advice and concrete steps that you can take?
Check out my course on Udemy. For only $20, you receive unlimited access to 28 videos and 84 journal prompts designed to take you through the common stages and reactions people have to divorce.
“What is the value of therapy?” the email continues, after the writer has detailed her struggles moving through divorce.
Another message contains the statement, “I’ve been in therapy for years and I’m wondering if it’s working.”
“How do I know if therapy is for me?” implores a man who has been blindsided by his wife’s infidelity.
What is the value of therapy?
People generally turn to therapy when they are struggling with negative emotions or having trouble processing something in their past or present. Therapy can serve different purposes depending upon the needs of the person and the specialization of the therapist.
In general, therapy can assume one or more of these roles:
Highlighter
It’s hard to see the forest for the trees. Therapists can offer valuable perspective and insight when we’re all-too-easily distracted by the details cluttering up our lives. A skilled therapist can listen to twenty minutes of unloading about a difficult situation and can sum up the core issue(s) in a couple of sentences. Then, once the challenges have been highlighted, you are better able to focus your energy in the areas where you can best effect change.
Skill Developer
Many therapies are designed to give people access to a variety of tools that they can then apply on their own in order to improve relationships or personal well-being. A therapist will identify your needs and work with you to develop and practice a variety of coping strategies. As part of this process, you will also learn to recognize the precursors that indicate a need for a particular strategy.
Neutral Third Party
Relationships are by definition, emotional. As a result, it can be difficult to work through certain situations within the context of a relationship. The stakes are simply too high to avoid either withdrawal in an attempt to avoid vulnerability or becoming too intense and prompting flooding in the other person. A therapy session offers a safe space and an uninvested third party to work through issues or to practice better communication.
Interpretor
What we’re feeling isn’t always an indication of how we feel. As an example, fear often manifests within one or more of these fifteen disguises. Therapists are trained to recognize the emotion behind the presentation. They are adept at naming and describing what you’re feeling. And naming it is often he first step to regaining control over it.
Guide
Therapists often act as trail guides. This may be unfamiliar terrain for you, but they have been down this path many times and are familiar with the hazards and the milestones. They will help to prepare you for the upcoming climbs, cheer you on when you become frustrated and will ensure that you don’t stray too far off the path.
Affirmer
If you are currently in or were raised in an environment that is abusive or rife with criticism, your therapist can be a vital source of affirmation and acceptance. When you’re feeling cut down, beat down or judges by those around you, therapy can help you see the good within yourself.
Why might therapy be ineffective?
One of the critical factors that makes it difficult to assess the value of therapy is that the results are highly subjective: Do you feel better? Has your functioning improved? Are you having more good moments and fewer bad ones?
And sometimes the answer to those questions is, “No.” The following are some of the reasons that therapy may be ineffective:
You waited too long.
You can’t ignore signs of cancer for months and then expect a doctor to immediately cure your stage 4 malignancy. In the same manner, if you have ignored mental health issues for years, there may be limits to what therapy can accomplish. That doesn’t mean that it’s useless, but early intervention often favors better results.
You have unrealistic expectations.
No matter how skilled the therapist, they cannot undo the damage caused by a parent’s abandonment. They don’t possess magic wands that can immediately make everything better. If you show up to marriage counseling and you’re spouse has already given up, the therapist can’t force them to change their minds. If your expectations are unrealistic, you will never achieve your goals, therapy or not.
You’re seeing the wrong therapist or using the wrong technique for you.
You wouldn’t go to a grill master to learn how to improve your baking, so why go to a therapist who specializes in psychodynamic therapy to learn strategies for dealing with the daily symptoms of anxiety? Before you enter therapy, make sure you know what you’re looking for and that you can communicate those goals to someone who can help you navigate your options.
You’re being defensive.
If you’re always looking to defend yourself and/or prove your therapist wrong, you will get nowhere. It’s important to recognize that your therapist is there to help you. And part of that help is challenging your assumptions and ways of interacting. You’re there because you want change and the first step of any transformation is admitting that you can do things differently.
You’re not applying the tools.
If the only practice you’re getting with the strategies and skills your therapist is teaching you in in their office, you’re undermining yourself. Changing habits and patterns takes practice. Lots of practice. If you don’t implement what they’re teaching you, your investment is pretty useless.
You’re failing to address the underlying issues.
Childhood traumas often present themselves throughout life until we have addressed the initial problem. If you present the current situation to your therapist but neglect to delve into the childhood traumas that primed the pump for your present struggles, your work will have limited success. You have to identify and neutralize the cause.
You’re not being honest or transparent.
Your therapist can only work with the material that you give them. If you’re hiding, you are not allowing them to help you. It’s natural to feel ashamed or embarrassed about certain things; however, a therapist’s job is to listen without passing undo judgment. Trust me, they’ve probably heard worse than what you’re holding back. Ultimately, they cannot help you shine light on your problems if you refuse to open the door.
Your therapist is retaining the power.
Like with parenting, the role of a therapist is to ultimately put themselves out of a job. Unfortunately, there are therapists out there that like being needed and so they want to ensure that you remain dependent upon them. If you sense that this is your therapists, please look for someone new.
Is therapy for you?
If you identify with any of the following, therapy may be a good option for you:
Your feelings – sadness, anxiety, anger, etc. – seem overwhelming and difficult to control.
You’re struggling to communicate with somebody in your life.
What you’re trying isn’t working.
You know there’s a problem, but you can’t seem to identify it.
You need a “jump start” to get you on the right track.
You’re feeling isolated and as though you don’t have a strong support system.
You want to increase the tools that you have to deal with life’s challenges.
You’re feeling “stuck” or you are fixated on something in your past.
You want some support and guidance to navigate a life transition (marriage, divorce, death, childbirth, retirement, etc.).
You’re looking for a professional’s opinion on something in your life.
Ultimately, therapy is a tool. It can be a valuable opportunity for you to make critical and vital changes to your life or your mindset. Yet, as with any tool, it’s only valuable if it’s the right one for the job and you use it effectively and in a timely manner.
When my husband left, I trembled for a year. That’s not just some figurative language used to convey emotion; I literally shook. For a year. My body quaked from the aftershocks of the sudden trauma, my legs constantly kicking and my hands quivering. Those weren’t my only symptoms, either. I had flashbacks and nightmares that took me back to the to the day where I received the text that ended my marriage. The 21-word incoming message read: “I am sorry to be such a coward leaving you this way but I am leaving you and leaving the state.” From then on, the sound of an incoming message would actually send me to the floor, where I braced myself for another digital attack. I felt numb and had trouble remembering aspects of my marriage or my husband. I avoided sights and sounds that were associated with my marriage, often driving well out of my way to steer clear of my old neighborhood. I couldn’t sleep; I was hyper alert, always scanning every room and ready to fight or flee at any moment. I could not eat and my weight fell to dangerous levels.
As far as I know, my life was never in actual danger. But apparently my mind and body never received that message. In an instant, the person I trusted the most became someone whom I feared. I felt threatened and unsafe.
I didn’t know what was real and who to trust.
My husband never forced himself upon me, but I felt as though I had been violated when I learned I had been sleeping with the enemy. He never physically hit me, but the psychological blows left scars just the same. I’ve never been to war, yet every interaction with his lawyer was a battle that left me paralyzed with fear for my ability to survive.
I by no means intend to trivialize the horrors endured by those who have been the victims of abuse or those have been through war. Those are traumas on a scale well above what I have endured. What I have come to realize, however, is that trauma can come in many forms and in many degrees. The psychiatrist I saw that first year after my divorce stopped short of diagnosing me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), but the term came up as I described my symptoms, and the medications she prescribed are frequently used in the treatment of PTSD. Another therapist I saw also mentioned the disorder and used complimentary strategies.
PTSD happens when your mind cannot process the extent of the trauma.
It’s like a short circuit in your nervous system, where you have trouble distinguishing between real and perceived threats. We tend to think of PTSD as occurring only in life-threatening situations, but it can occur anytime there is an acute or prolonged trauma. Not all divorces lead to PTSD, but if it is sudden or abusive, the trauma can be severe and sudden enough to lead to PTSD-like symptoms.
According to The National Institute of Mental Health, PTSD includes flashbacks, bad dreams, staying away from triggers, feeling emotionally numb, feeling guilty, having trouble with memory, being easily startled, feeling tense and angry. Additionally, the diagnosis of PTSD requires that the symptoms persist beyond 30 days and that they interfere with daily life. There is a difference between normal grief, shock and anxiety and the pathology of PTSD.
PTSD occurs when a perfect storm of conditions are met. First, prior traumas can “prime” someone for PTSD as the stress can actually cause epigenetic changes, rewiring the body to be extra sensitive to further trauma. Women are also more likely to experience PTSD, possibly due to heightened fear conditioning. PTSD is also more likely to occur when traumas accumulate. When someone who has some of these risk factors undergoes a divorce, particularly one that is sudden or especially toxic, PTSD-like symptoms can occur. Sudden abandonment or attack by a loved one can trigger panic and disorientation as real as any physical threat.
The trauma is stored in the body as well as the mind.
During my divorce, I learned that most people assumed that depression would be the disorder de jour after a break up. They expected me to be sad and withdrawn, curled up on my bed with a box of tissues and endless pints of ice cream. Instead, I was hyper vigilant and always on the lookout for the next blow. It’s important to realize that all divorces are not the same and we all respond differently. There is no “right” way to be after a divorce. I was embarrassed for a time to reveal the true nature of my symptoms. I felt like I wasn’t permitted to feel that way since I didn’t have a knife to my throat. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t cope with the basics of eating and sleeping. I felt weak every time I over-reacted to a stimulus. Once I admitted my struggles, I was able to actively seek help to overcome them. I also learned that I was not alone in my reaction to the divorce.
There is help for those who are experiencing PTSD-like symptoms after a divorce. First, communicate your symptoms to your doctor or therapist. A checklist can be a useful tool, especially if you are having trouble putting words to your feelings. Be firm. I found that some therapists and doctors didn’t really listen to me, rather they projected how they thought I should be feeling. Different therapies, including EMDR, have been shown to be effective against PTSD. There are medications that can be useful to limit the anxiety and to calm the mind and body. Additionally, mindfulness practices, including yoga and meditation, can also help to reset the sympathetic nervous system and regulate the release of stress hormones.
Allow the body to teach the mind how to relax.
In my case, medication helped me survive the first year while a combination of mindfulness training, yoga and exercise has alleviated most of the symptoms permanently. I still have moments of unexplained panic where a slight trigger causes an extreme reaction, but those moments are thankfully few and far between. I no longer feel like I’m a prisoner to my anxieties, trapped in a purgatory where I’m forced to relive those awful moments time and time again. I am now able to visit those memories without panic and live my life without waiting for the next blow.
I never formally acquired the label of PTSD, but it served to be a valuable framework for me to understand and communicate my symptoms and to eventually overcome them. Labels, such as PTSD, can be helpful as we try to understand a complex situation, but even they only tell part of the story. Be gentle and understanding with yourself and others. Don’t be quick to judge or make assumptions. Don’t be ashamed to ask for assistance and admit when you cannot do it alone. Seek the help you need and know that it does get better.
Lisa Arends does an effective job in writing about the aftermath, the fallout, of a life-changing shock, on the abrupt desolation of her marriage. The read is a well done walk through all the PTSD and repeating changes that occur, which is depicted in a letter written to her by her exited husband, the commentary on the letter under the umbrella of the devastating changes she experienced, emotionally, physically and logistically are a walk through the fact that PTSD is not just relegated to victims of war, but to any life encounter that uproots your very existence in a shocking manner. She’s a likeable author, an engaging woman, that you take to and feel for, because she portrays the story, the horror she lived, with veracity and integrity, to allow the facts to unfold on the page even if they point a finger back to her (ie: a text from her spouse to his mother-in-law, Lisa’s mother). Devastation upon devastation unravels and what we hold onto dearly is lost, not just in the relationship but also in the family built around it, fury and otherwise. Arends navigates through this debacle with grace and humility, filled with emotions that are painted with strokes that are sure to offer others in similar situations some reflections and ground; she labels as “Lessons” chapter after chapter, ultimately culminating in what she has learned, valuable life lessons, applicable to anyone. But, this is not just a self-help work, or a read for someone in a similar situation, it’s a compelling story of the frailty and misconceptions we all live with, the thin line of trust & betrayal, confidence and fright, love and rejection, all the things that make the paradoxes of life and keep a balance, hopefully the balance stays in some semblance of equilibrium. In Arends case she tilts off the scale and by the Grace of her very nature, the love of her family, and whatever else strength she draws from she journeys through to meet what is most precious to all of us, connecting and opening to trust (applause to Tiger, no spoilers) despite all temptations not to, and in doing so, learning the ultimate, that love does conquer and cannot be soiled by another’s shadow cast upon our soul.
In the book, I never name PTSD. I only describe the events and my reactions. Yet, here was a third party who deemed that to be an accurate label.
According to the Mayo Clinic, the following are the symptoms of PTSD:
Symptoms of intrusive memories may include:
Flashbacks, or reliving the traumatic event for minutes or even days at a time
Upsetting dreams about the traumatic event
Symptoms of avoidance and emotional numbing may include:
Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event
Feeling emotionally numb
Avoiding activities you once enjoyed
Hopelessness about the future
Memory problems
Trouble concentrating
Difficulty maintaining close relationships
Symptoms of anxiety and increased emotional arousal may include:
Irritability or anger
Overwhelming guilt or shame
Self-destructive behavior, such as drinking too much
After I received the text that ended my marriage, I experienced many of these symptoms. I had the flashbacks and the dreams. I had trouble thinking and remembering. I couldn’t sleep and I frightened easily. But, most of all I trembled constantly, my autonomic nervous system was on high alert, waiting for the next assault.
At first, the triggers were everywhere. Driving along the road that passed by my old house felt like traversing a field with buried landmines. I fully expected an explosion at any moment. I responded as though every mention of his name was literally a threat to my life. At any moment, I could be catapulted back to instant where I received the text. It was as though the phone was always in my hand.
My psychiatrist that I saw that first year stopped short of a full PTSD diagnosis, but she mentioned the disorder and selected medications that are used to treat it. I honestly don’t think I would have made it through without the medications. They allowed me to sleep and eat – two things I could not yet accomplish on my own.
Over time, the triggers decreased. I learned how to sleep and eat without assistance. I stopped the medications and was able to use meditation and exercise to reduce any symptoms. I can still feel the shadows of the trauma when I feel like I’m being abandoned again but, for the most part, my mind and body no longer confuse real and perceived threats.
It seems perfect. The spaces seem custom-built to accommodate your needs and it immediately feels like a home. Over time, as the family grows and the demands on the home increase, those walls that once felt comforting begin to feel like a prison. The house is simply too small.
Sometimes people outgrow relationships. The person that once fit nicely into their lives is now a source of frustration. Support has turned into constriction and the need to fully expand becomes too great to ignore.
2 – The Unraveling of the Favorite Sweater
At first, it is coveted, although a little unfamiliar. It still holds the creases of the hanger and the pigment is true and bright. Over time, it begins to mold to your body. Soften. It is a familiar hug, a safe place to return. The initial damage seems slight, inconsequential. It’s only a loose thread. Yet that single thread is what holds the sweater together.
Marriages can mirror this same pathway, moving from shiny and new to familiar and then to worn and damaged. There is a both bittersweet memory of the original shape and a discontentment with the current status.
3 – The Sudden Allergy
It comes on quickly, a shock to all present. What was perfectly acceptable and even enjoyed has now become a source of illness. The underlying cause of the dramatic change is difficult to pinpoint. But the result is the same. These two entities can simply no longer coexist.
In relationships, this sudden allergy may be due to some environmental shift or it can also arise from unidentified underlying issues. The abrupt shift will come as a surprise and it may take some time to accept the needed alterations. Yet, until this essential incompatibility is addressed, the maladaptive reactions will continue to occur.
4 – A Graduation
At some point, the student no longer needs the teacher. Graduation brings about complex emotions. It is the remembrance of all the lessons learned and the shared struggles and triumphs in the classroom. There is celebration born from completion and also fear of the upcoming unknown and a concern about being ready to tackle the challenges ahead.
Some marriages end because the lessons have been learned. It becomes time to close one chapter in order to begin the next where the lessons can now be applied in a new situation. These are bittersweet endings as the shared journey is remembered and honored even as the natural end is acknowledged.
5 – The Rotten Apple
It seems so tempting. Its taut and shiny skin unblemished under the artificial lights of the store. It promises sweet, crispy sustenance just beneath the surface. With joyous anticipation, you bite down. Only to discover that the flesh beneath the skin is black and rotten.
These are the marriages entered into with the narcissist or other personality that likes to hide behind shiny promises. It seems too good to be true. And eventually, you discover that it is.
6 – A Remodel
At one point, the decor was perfect for you. It matched your aesthetic and your lifestyle. But then your tastes changed, slowly at first. You began small, replacing some artwork and maybe freshening up the throw pillows. Over time, you start to realize that the changes have a domino effect and that the entire space needs an overhaul.
We all change over time and through experiences. Sometimes we find that these small changes have a compounding effect and that a relationship that once fit in nicely no longer matches anything else.
7 – Vision Correction
The lens clicks into place and suddenly the eye chart, once nothing but a muddy blur, comes into sharp focus. You see it all and for once, you see it clearly. You no longer have to guess at the truth behind the fuzzy images.
Sometimes we have trouble truly seeing the person right in front of us. And when our vision is blurry, we fill in the details with expectations and assumptions, often born from past experiences. It can be quite surprising when your vision is suddenly corrected and you see the person as they are. Especially when you realize that the reality is far from what you imagined.
8 – The Training Wheels
We fix training wheels to children’s bicycles not because of any physical need, but to address their need for a sense of security and safety. Likewise, their removal is due more to an increase in confidence than in a change in ability.
Sometimes relationships are the preferred training wheels of adults. These are partnerships often entered into young, before the individuals have developed confidence in themselves to be able to operate alone. Then, as one or both spouses begin to replace their self-doubt with more assurance, they may discover that the training wheels are no longer needed and that they would prefer to ride unencumbered.
9 – A Malignancy
It has to come out. The tumor is a source of poison, restricting life-force and threatening your very survival. It will be painful. Brutal, even, as there is a certain about of healthy tissue that must be removed as well in order to assure that all of the diseased material is removed. Yet even with the trauma, the removal brings a sense of hope.
These are the abusive marriages. The abuser inhabits their victim, slowly programming the cells to behave as they dictate. As with a tumor, the removal must be swift and it will be painful. And there may be some residual scars left behind.
10 – The Tsunami
There is no sign of impending disaster. The skies are blue, the water clear. And then, without warning, the placid ocean becomes a voracious beast, swallowing what seems to be the entire world. Leaving behind nothing but destruction and emptiness.
I’ve been in a bit of a funk since this school year started. And I’m in the South, so that was two months ago. I’m doing that thing that I used to do in my old life that I promised myself I wouldn’t do anymore. I’m waiting. Promising myself that it will be better as soon as…
Except some of those milestones have passed and I’m still waiting. And still funky.
I can enumerate the reasons I’ve been funkified:
I’m feeling overwhelmed and overworked. Yes, I know I say this every fall. Yet this year feels worse (even though I know I say that every year too). I’m needed more by some of the other teachers this year and I’m struggling to balance their needs with the needs of my students (along with trying to remember that I have needs too and these are just as valid). I keep waiting for the groove to come, but I’m not sure it will.
My husband underwent cervical fusion at the end of August. It was stressful waiting for the surgery (there was a minimal but very real risk of paralysis if there was any impact to the neck before the fusion). And of course, surgery itself is scary. The procedure went well and healing is progressing nicely. But it’s still hard. I’ve had to take on more and he’s without his normal martial arts outlet, which takes a toll on both of us.
I haven’t had much social connection since school started. I do best with social contact about once a week or so. I’ve had only two encounters with friends in the past month. Definitely not sufficient, especially because I’m pretty isolated from adult contact at work.
Many of my favorite podcasts are still on summer hiatus. Trivial, I know. except it’s not. Between my morning dog walk, my commute and my monotonous teacher tasks (like collating and stapling unit summaries), I can easily consume about three hours of audio content a day. So when it’s limited, I notice.
This one is 100% my fault. I slipped on the daily gratitude journal again. It’s been easy to claim that I’m too busy. Except it takes less than 60 seconds, so that’s utter bullshit. I’m not too busy. I’m too IN the busy. And still stuck on the mindset that if I just keep my head down and keep pushing, I’ll push through and have space to breathe.
And probably the hardest part – when I’ve shared with others that I’m struggling, they seem to dismiss it. Minimize it. It could be that I’m overly sensitive to this, but I think it’s because they have the perception that I don’t fall apart (or haven’t in the last nine years, at least). So they assume that I’m okay, even when I try to say that I’m not. It’s a key problem of being one of the “strong ones.”
I haven’t been all-bad though. I’ve prioritized yoga. I’ve been taking some time to read and I even joined a book club (a first ever for me). I have committed to and maintained a hard 8:00 pm deadline to put work aside no matter how unfinished it is. I sought out some new-to-me podcasts (thank you By the Book; you’ve made this week much better!) and made the trip to renew my library card so that I can again download audio books. I switched gyms to one that is closer, cheaper and has the most bad-ass treadmill-ish contraption that allows me to do sprints inside. And I love coming home to a puppy that insists that play is important no matter how much work there is to do.
I need to do better though. To find a way to breathe within this chaos instead of waiting for the chaos to end. Because it won’t. Chaos is a part of life. All that changes is the particular tone and texture of it.
I keep coming back to the book my club discussed earlier this month – 29 Gifts. It describes a woman’s resolution to give – and document – 29 gifts in 29 days. I liked the idea, especially since I’ve been feeling somewhat resentful over the amount of myself I’m having to give right now. I’m not ready to do the full challenge right now, but I’m really working on shifting my thinking around what I’m doing – seeing my time as a gift rather than something being taken from me. It’s a small step, but it is a step. After all, how many times do I tell people that we have limited control over what happens to us, but a lot of say in how we respond to it?
Next week is fall break. I’m viewing it as an opportunity for a big ol’ reset. Do some self-care, visit with friends, get some sleep and put some things in place to keep me grounded and sane when the intensity (which just aptly auto-corrected to “insanity”) picks up again.
Because I refuse to allow this funk to follow me into October.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 