Anger Deflation

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My biggest stumbling block was (and at times, continues to be) anger.  I could not get past the deliberate nature of what he had done.  Holding me, telling me how much he loved me and would miss me while his bride’s ring sat in his car, ready to be placed on her finger within the week.  The years of lies and manipulations that covered the hemorrhaging accounts.  And, worst of all, he went on the attack with the divorce, blaming me for everything.  How could I not be angry? Livid?

I spent much of the last two and half years wrestling with the “how.”  How could he do this?  How could he seek to destroy the one he claimed to love (and seemed to show love to up until the last text)?  How could he kiss me, be intimate with me, knowing that he was orchestrating this symphony of destruction?  Try as I might, I just couldn’t make those actions, those lies,  match the man I knew.

So, I thought of him as a boy.

I thought about what would cause a child to lie.  Children generally lie out of fear.  They want to please, and when they now they have disappointed, they seek to hide their actions by spinning tales.  Looking over the last few years of my marriage, I saw a path (relating to a failed business attempt) that could have led him down the path of telling lies to hide his shortcomings, to protect me from the truth.  As with a child, if these lies are not caught, they eventually become habit.

I thought about what would cause a child to lash out against loved ones.  Children often lash out when they feel trapped and threatened.  When  he lashed out, he had been caught.  The carefully crafted facade that he wanted the world to see had been stripped away, his deceptions, his failures bared for the world to see.  He saw me as threatening his core, his very self, so he lashed out in a desperate  attempt to shield.

I may be wrong in these motivations. Perhaps he is simply a sociopath,  immune to other’s  pain.  Maybe he is evil, enjoying the suffering of others.  But that doesn’t fit the man I knew, and so it does not bring me peace.  However, by looking at his actions as I would a child’s, I have found that I see him as scared, unsure, and lost.  That helps  to deflate some of the anger, releasing the pressure and allowing me to move forward.

Anger is a Succubus

Posted on by stilllearning2b

anger

Anger.   It is so easy to go there.  To stay there.

Why did he do this to me?  How could he have done these things? What a (fill in the blank with your favorite expletive)!

That anger is a succubus; she’ll draw you in, tempting you, and then slowly suck you dry, leaving you brittle while the object of the anger remains untouched.  Anger leaves you in a victim state, powerless.  It is only by releasing this anger that you can take your own reigns from the soul-sucking creature and chart your path.

Take yourself out of the object in the sentences above and make yourself the subject.  What can I do to make my life better?  What can I do now that these things have happened.  Okay, so maybe the expletives can still stand.  They certainly have their place, after all:)  That shifts the power back to you.

Not that it is easy. I still slide back into anger when I have to deal with the financial fallout of my ex-husband’s years of manipulations and deceptions.  Try staying calm when you are faced with paying the bill for the wedding rings used to marry another while you are still betrothed.  Any luck?  Yeah, me neither.

The anger has been the hardest to let go of, even more than sadness. However, I refuse to let that succubus feed off me any longer.

In future posts, I will share some of my strategies for moving beyond anger.  What has helped you?  Are you still angry?

Softness Isn’t Just for Selling Tissues

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When I was a toddler, I used to try to walk through the sliding glass door.  Repeatedly.  The coffee table was simply an apparition that should bend to my will and allow me passage.  Even the bulk of the couch was no match for my will; I assumed that it too could be bested if I tried long enough and hard enough.

As I approached adulthood and learned about the states of matter,I realized that my chances of walking through solids were pretty slim.  However, this did little to temper my will and stubbornness.  These traits saw me through many challenges in my life; I succeeded because I refused to give up.  I worked to make myself stronger, both physically and emotionally to see me through the challenges that life had to offer.  I had perseverance and reliance in droves.

It wasn’t enough. At least not for the long run.

My strength got me through the early days and months of my divorce.  I looked to my fortitude to help me push through what seemed like insurmountable obstacles.

Then, one day, I realized the external obstacles were gone.  All that was left were my interior barriers, and try as I might, I couldn’t simply lower my head and barrel through them.  This was not a  time for strength.

I found  wisdom in the teachings of yoga and meditation, areas that I had been exploring, sensing that they could counter my natural strengths and bring me more into balance.  In yoga, you are taught to find your edge, accept your edge, explore your edge (not to pretend it is not there and continue forward nonetheless, as  I was wont to do).  Pain is not something to  be denied, rather it should be acknowledged and  investigated.  I learned to recognize my edge and slowly, softly shift it.  I became more comfortable just being with the pain, softening my attitude towards it.  The process of healing from the trauma made me softer, and that in turn made me stronger and more whole.

Strength found its balance in softness.  The two together are so much more powerful than each alone.  Try as I might, I still can’t walk through furniture, though.

Pardon Me, Ego. I Need to Get Through.

Posted on by stilllearning2b

The Thinking Man sculpture at Musée Rodin in Paris

Ego:

the “I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing, and distinguishing itself from the selves of others and from objects of its thought. (from dictionary.com)
Ever since we first begin to see ourselves as separate, sentient beings in childhood, our egos define how we interpret the world around us.  That sense of self may actually be holding you back from healing from your divorce.  Do you see yourself in any of the following patterns?
It’s All About Me
When I first realized the extent of my husband’s betrayals, I kept asking, “How could he do this to me? To the one he was supposed to love?”  I saw his actions directed towards me as an arrow towards a target.  I assumed he was thinking about me as he made these decisions.  He lied to me.  He cheated on me.  He stole from me. That pattern kept me fully anchored in a victim state, the recipient of all the pain and deceptions.
Slowly, I realized that it wasn’t all about me.  He lied and cheated and stole, yes.  But he did those things because of whatever demons had him in their grasp.  He didn’t do those things because of me.  He most likely wasn’t even thinking of me while they occurred.  He did them and I was in the way.
I shifted my thinking. When he hurt me, he was acting to protect his own sense of self rather than trying to wound mine.  I began to let the anger go.
It is not easy to remove the ego from interpreting the actions of one so intimate to you. Try looking at the situation with an open mind, letting go of your own ego, and see how your perspective shifts.
The Reflective Ego Shield
Our egos are vulnerable beings; they often cover themselves in highly reflective shields, deflecting any criticism and shining it back at its source.  I used to get very defensive when anyone suggested that I had a hand in my husband’s actions.  I would retaliate, lashing out at them as I tightened the stays on the armor protecting my ego.  It was a very scary proposition to let some of that armor go and to examine what was shielded underneath.  I learned the role that my own insecurities and anxieties played in the end of my marriage.  Instead of reflecting all of the responsibility on him, I took my share.
There is a difference between taking responsibility for your own actions and taking the blame for another’s actions.  If you are carrying your own reflective shield, try lowering it and examining what lies beneath.
The Hidden Wounds
The ego doesn’t like to show its vulnerabilities.  When asked, “How are you doing?,” the ego always answers, “Fine.”
I remember how many times I falsely spoke that word in those early months.  Much of that time, I wasn’t “fine,” I was angry, sad, bitter, anxious, sick, and disconnected.  But I also didn’t want to reveal those wounds.  To let the world see the depth of my pain. I kept it covered with a band-aid of “fine.”
Your wounds cannot heal unless they are exposed to the air.  The bandage can remain on to protect your injuries from the world at large, but you remove them when are in a safe place to let the healing begin.
Ego as Strongman
Our egos are a bit like young meatheads in a gym.  Flexing in the mirror, wanting to appear strong and capable amongst the others.  This means that sometimes we will try to lift more than we can without asking for assistance.  And, just like in the weight room, this can only lead to disaster.
Prior to my husband’s David Copperfield act, I was horrible at asking for and receiving assistance.  In fact, that was actually one of the points of contentions in my marriage; I always made it clear that I could do it alone.  I guess he wanted to prove me right.  Regardless, I made things so much more difficult than they ever needed to be by denying offered help and refusing to ask for help when it was needed.
Are you acting like the young man in the gym?  Ask for a spotter and you’ll not only gain the respect of those around you, but you will also be able to lift more than you ever thought possible.
Our egos tend to operate below our conscious thought.  After all, they are us.  And they are often the biggest barriers in our way.
Pardon me, ego.  I need to get through.

Extend a Hand

Posted on by stilllearning2b
Grasping
Grasping (Photo credit: Giant Ginkgo)

In those first few days and weeks of sudden singlehood, I was angry.  I wanted to curse his name in a thousand languages, yet I knew only one.  I wanted to create effigies of him and burn them, but our county had posted a burn ban that summer.  I wanted to use his mug shot for target practice, but I owned no range weapons.

Bow and Arrows
Bow and Arrows (Photo credit: JennicaLyons)

I realized soon enough that this mindset would not help me in the long run.  I turned to the internet, looking for inspiration from people who had been there.  Guides through the hellish journey of the end of a marriage.

I was disappointed in what I found.  The vast majority of sites were populated with people who were in the early stages.  Filled with vitriol and anger, spewing forth their rage across the web.  I get it.  You cannot heal until you release the pus that poisons the wound.  But I wanted to hear from people who had started to scab over.  I wanted to know what to expect when the scab fell off.  Or how to keep it from becoming infected.  Even better, I wanted to know what the scars of divorce would look like and how to help them fade.

Day 121: Scarred
Day 121: Scarred (Photo credit: Sarah Mae)

What I found was that people stopped sharing, stopped talking, once their own journey was set and they were out of the overwhelming darkness and confusion that dominates the early stages.  That is a shame, for there is much to be learned from those who have traveled the long road and know all its markers.

The most powerful image I have from Tough Mudder is the spontaneous creation of human chains, as people (strangers in most cases), who were just slightly further along on an obstacle, extended a hand to the person behind them.  This linkage allowed all to successfully navigate an obstacle that would have been insurmountable alone.

Those of us who are just a little further along on our journey through divorce and trauma can help others by extending a hand.