Guest Post – Divorcing a Narcissist Is Tough

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m often grateful that I didn’t have children on my slog through the family courts. My experience was horrific, but at the end of the day, there were some battles I could elect not to find. At some point, I could choose to walk away. After all, it was simply money on the table.

But when you’re a parent and it’s your kids on that proverbial table? You can’t simply choose to lay down your sword and cut your losses. You have to fight. Even when your opponent fights dirty.

Here is Jen Adler’s story about her experience with a malignant divorce and an inept system:

Divorcing a Narcissist Is Tough

I read an article today – about divorcing a narcissist. It gave an accurate, if sterile account of what it is to divorce a narcissist. A friend sent me a link to the article. She’s read my blog about the after-effects of divorcing a narcissist but being bound by children of the marriage. She wanted to show me I’m not the only one who understands and acknowledges the issue. It’s mainstream now.

I know.

It didn’t leave me feeling validated. Or comforted. Or even grateful for the exposure to a problem that has gutted my life. It left me pissed off.

The article – detailing a book by Karyl McBride called Will I Ever Be Free of You – talks about a problem I know intimately well. The article uses phrases like,

It’s tough to divorce a narcissist.

Children are terribly harmed.

Family courts are playgrounds for narcissists.

All of which are true, but none of which anyone who has not divorced a narcissist can understand in any meaningful way. It’s like saying,

Cancer kills lots of people. It’s sad. In other news, the Reds beat the Pirates last night.

If you’re reading this right now, and YOU haven’t lived through a narcissist, then you can’t understand why I’m angry. Let me tell you what divorcing a narcissist really looks like.

The Family Picture Post Narc Divorce

My husband and I both divorced narcissists. We make nearly $200,000 a year in combined income yet live paycheck to paycheck. Before you ask, we have no credit card debt. We live in a small house we rent from my parents after losing our home to foreclosure in 2012. When divorcing a narcissist, sometimes one has to choose between having legal representation to defend one’s right to be a parent versus paying a mortgage. We pay $3000 a month in child support and lawyer fees.

We owe our lawyer over $100,000. We’ve paid her more than $60,000 already. This is all for POST-DECREE work. This is not what it cost to divorce our narcs.

We have no retirement accounts, no savings accounts, no safety net. Everything has been cashed out in order to continue fighting to protect our kids from their narc parents – and to protect our right to be involved in our children’s lives.

This is who we are. Financially at least. And I have to tell you, neither my husband nor I complain about our financial situation. We joyfully give up everything we have to protect our family. And if the money we dole out monthly, if the retirement accounts we’ve completely depleted, if ANY of the money we spend actually made a difference in the lives of our children or our right to be parents? Neither of us would complain. But the sad truth is, it makes no difference at all. Why?

Family Courts are Stupid

Family courts don’t protect families. Family courts protect parent’s rights. And they don’t even do that very well. Here are some fun facts about our experience in family court.

My husband was ordered to pay for private schools for his children, even though his ex-wife removed the children from private schools and enrolled them in a public school THAT DOESN’T CHARGE TUITION. Yes. You read that right. We’re paying tuition to his ex-wife for kids who go to public schools. And this was one of the better rulings we got from family court…

For the last six years, I have been trying to get therapeutic support for my son. His father argues there is nothing wrong with his son. He brings in teachers and neighbors and distant relatives to back him up. In fact, father posits the only reason I want therapy for my son is because I WANT there to be something wrong with him so I can get attention. In fighting for this, I lost custody of my son, lost the right to be involved in any medical appointments/decisions regarding my son. And yet, the court never once had my son evaluated by an outside psychologist. When I had him evaluated, the court threw out the testimony of the psychologist – because dad had not agreed to have him evaluated, and because the court did not order it.

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I was once found in contempt of court for removing my son from the daycare he attended prior to going to kindergarten. I received an email from his father stating the date his father would be taking him out of that same daycare. When I then emailed back indicating I would do the same, I was served with papers of contempt and found guilty of removing him from the daycare the court had ordered he attend. His father also removed him from the same daycare on the same day.

Don’t try to understand, it isn’t supposed to make sense.

I was found in contempt of court for moving (after losing our home to foreclosure) because a restraining order had been filed to stop me. The restraining order was served to me one week after we moved. I was found guilty.

Yeah, that’s awful, but what’s the other side of the story?

There’s no such thing as a happy divorce. There’s fighting and bitterness, name calling and ugliness in most every divorce. So how is one to know the difference between a “normal” divorce and one with a narcissist?

This is the basis upon which the general public, divorce attorneys, guardian ad-litems, parenting coordinators, magistrates, and judges use to justify their dismissal of anyone who tries to shine light upon the problems arising from divorcing narcissists. These are just normal parts of divorce.

I’m a mild mannered mother who has never spanked my children and relocate the bugs in my house because I can’t bring myself to kill them. But I will punch the next court representative who tells me

If the parents could just get along, then the child wouldn’t be having these problems.

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There is no other side of the story in divorcing a narcissist. That’s the point. It just doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because,

  • No divorce should cost upwards of $160,000.
  • Contrary to popular belief, it doesn’t require two people for a fight. One person can make it happen just fine, and narcissists LOVE to fight.
  • Looking at individual issues makes it seem as if the narc could actually be reasonable. After all, why can’t mom just agree for her son to go to school in his father’s school district? Why can’t mom just agree to allow dad to sign up the child for activities five days a week? Why can’t mother just agree for dad to have full custody so that there doesn’t have to be fighting between the two parties? Why can’t mom just not have access to school records so that school officials don’t have to feel uncomfortable dealing with two parents in a contentious divorce? Why can’t mom?????

This is why I’m mad

I’m not angry because all of this happened in my life. I don’t even resent the narcissist who still plagues us ten years after the divorce. I’m not angry we’ve lost our life savings, I’m not angry we live paycheck to paycheck, I’m not angry our narcs drive Audi’s and Hummers, belong to country clubs and live in $500,000+ homes. That’s the easy part of divorcing a narc. Know what’s hard?

Stupid. Family. Courts.

A narc behaves as a narc will behave. I hold no grudges against the mentally ill. However, family courts? If a problem makes the New York Times, I’d say that’s fairly mainstream. So why, after years and years and years of a problem that is coming to light, that fills up family court dockets, that debilitates families and children, WHY IS FAMILY COURT THE ONLY PLACE PRETENDING DIVORCING NARCS AREN’T A PROBLEM?

Forgive me this rant. This unnatural anger. I admit it’s good the problem warrants coverage in books and certainly in a publication like the New York Times. But lets not sugar coat things with phrases like, “divorcing a narc is tough”. Divorcing a narc is not tough, it is a blood sacrifice of one’s self and children to the mercy of a court system that wants to do what is easy and what fits into their “normal” divorce model. It drives families to bankruptcy and foreclosure. It leaves children with scars which will haunt them throughout their lives. It is a problem that no one wants to deal with and for which no one has a solution. 

More About the Author

Hi. I’m not Jen Adler, and this isn’t actually a picture of me. I am the writer of a blog written anonymously in an attempt to keep it out of the sites of the narcissist who stalks my life. I write about surviving a relationship with a narcissist so that people can understand the devastation wrought by those with this disease. I highlight the ways family courts empower narcissists to continue abusing their targets and their children. I write about it so people will understand and support the legal changes that badly need to happen in order to protect victims of narcissists.

Read more from not-Jen at Peace In – Chaos Out

I know this is a topic and a cause that many of us can relate with.

Heart Break – Heart Attacks After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

A recent study has shown that people who have been divorced are at a higher risk of having a heart attack at some point. Interestingly, the risks are higher for women then men and remarriage has more of a protective effect on men than women.

The study’s authors propose that perhaps divorce is more stressful on women and that women often face a greater economic impact from divorce. Data backs up the second claim, but the first is more tenuous. After all, men are discouraged from showing pain and weakness and are less likely to seek and receive help post-divorce. So, is it perceived as harder on women only because women are more likely to talk about it?

There was one factor that seemed to be a glaring omission from the study – the impact of children. Was there a correlation between the number, ages and custody of the kids and an elevated risk of a heart attack? It certainly seems plausible that the stress of being a primary caregiver for the kids could be a contributing factor to heart disease.

I’m glad to see research such as this carried out. It illustrates the impact of divorce and speaks to the importance of self-care after a stressful life change. And the more we understand, the more we can address. Perhaps making divorce just a little less painful.

The Only Ones

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I visited with a friend and her I-can’t-believe-she’s-almost-six-years-old daughter, Kayla, yesterday. Kayla is at that stage where her time and experiences outside the family unit are becoming greater than her time with her parents. And so, like every curious kid at that juncture, she is starting to compare her situation and family with others. And her conclusion is that her mommy and daddy are mean to her sometimes. Just like every other six year old on the planet.

But perhaps Kayla is struggling with it a little more than some. Not because her parents are meaner (in fact, they are both amazing at being the parent that their daughter needs), but because Kayla is an only child.

As an only child myself, I never would have realized this connection on my own, but my friend, who has two siblings herself, explored this with me yesterday.

“For Kayla, there are two sets of rules in the house: what mommy and daddy are allowed to do (whatever they want from a kid’s view!) and what Kayla is allowed to do. When I was growing up, there were also two sets of rules: what my parents could do and what the kids could do.”

I immediately understood what she was saying, “So you didn’t take it personally when you had boundaries or were told ‘no.’ It wasn’t because it was you, it was because you fell into the category of ‘kid.’ Whereas for your daughter, even though her limits are because of her age, it’s easy for her to assume they are because she is ‘Kayla.'”

I felt a mental gear click into place.

It’s no wonder in relationships that we all too often take our partner’s words and actions personally. After all, in most cases, we are the only one that falls into the category of “spouse.” So we assume that the rejection or the betrayal or the neglect is because of us, who we are at our core, when it’s often because of the role we play and the position we occupy.

So next time you find yourself upset at somebody’s actions that you perceive as being directed, take a moment to think about little Kayla.

Is it happening because of who you are or is it happening because of the category you occupy?

Related:

Just Because It Happened To You, Does Not Mean It Happened Because of You

Bookends

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I rarely think or write about my parent’s divorce. It feels like ancient history and, for the most part, I never viewed it as a defining moment in my life.

But I may have been wrong.

As I dig down into the roots of some of my thought patterns, it seems like the fallout from their divorce is the soil from which they sprouted.

Damn.

My parents, at least from my perspective, had a good divorce. Or at least as good as a divorce can be. I was insulated from as much of it as possible. There were no court battles, custody and child support agreements were made and followed. They both refrained from talking badly about the other and both made huge efforts to put my needs first.

They did pretty much everything right. Which is probably why I handled the transition well and don’t recall feeling undue stress.

But even when done well, change changes you.

We soon went from a family of three to a mom-daughter pair. I knew she was stressed and I didn’t want to add to that burden. I knew money was limited and I didn’t want to spend. I knew she had an abundance of responsibility and I didn’t want to contribute to the load.

Additionally, their divorce left me a bit like a chick pushed out of the nest a little too soon. And even though they picked me right back up, the knowledge of that unforgiving ground was impossible to forget.

Some kids go a little wild when their parents split, looking for attention and release.

I went the other way.

I became responsible.

I became perfectionistic.

I became self-reliant.

I took it upon myself to become my own parent. I watched my grades carefully and gave myself talks when I didn’t perform up to my potential. I carefully considered consequences and often held back for fear of negative outcomes.

I assumed the role of clock-watcher. Drill sergeant. Task master. If you wanted it done, I was your gal.

I took “I can do it myself” to whole new levels.

This was not an assigned role; it was self-appointed. It was my way of feeling like I had some control in my life.

Taking responsibility is a good thing. But I took it too far, assuming other’s burdens as well as my own.

Self-reliance is a positive trait. But I used it as a way to avoid feeling vulnerable.

It was my armor. My shield. My assurance.

And it was never really tested until my divorce.

And that was the first time I couldn’t do it myself.

I had to learn to release control. I had to learn how to accept help.

And I had no choice but to be vulnerable.

It’s wild – I learned self-reliance from my parent’s divorce and how to accept help from my own split.

It’s amazing how often life’s experiences will circle around again, healing old wounds and reteaching lessons. Each parallel event offering wisdom and yet threatening wounds. It can be tempting to desire a life without these difficult episodes, to dream of smooth days and comfortable nights. But I see these events differently. They are what bring meaning and purpose and perspective to our lives. They challenge us and teach us. They shape us.

Bookended tutorials supporting the life in between.

I wonder what lesson will circle around next? I just hope this one doesn’t come with a side of divorce. I’ve had enough of that!:)

 

 

Reframing Fair

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Life’s not fair.

You probably first heard those words back in elementary school when a classmate’s misdeeds resulted in mass discipline or some slight against you went unpunished. If you’re anything like me, those words only served to salt the wound, as the brain kicked up reasons that this was different. That this time, the scales of justice must find balance.

As we grow, we read and watch stories that have an inherent fairness to them, the good guy usually gets the girl and the bad guy has to face the consequences of his actions. There is certainly suffering, but agony is tempered with some sort of retribution. We find comfort in that cause and effect. It seems right, somehow, that if you do good, you get good and if you propagate bad, it boomerangs as well.

As we grow, we also get better at weaving stories, tales told with ourselves as the good guy at the center. We use our inherent sense of fairness and the stories we learn from books and movies to craft these narratives. We strive to find greater purpose and balance, even if we have to build it from scratch. We have learned that the bad guy will be punished before the end. And so we seek that justice for the wrongs in our own lives before we are ready to turn the page on that chapter.

But those are just stories, narratives with black and white, good and bad. We’re not that simple and life is not that fair.

And sometimes fair doesn’t exist at all.

I think one of the reasons that divorce is so devastating is that it destroys our narrative of ourselves. We, the good guy in the story of course, get the girl. But then at some point, the girl wasn’t as expected and, in some cases, turns out to be the bad guy, pulling off the mask like a character in Scooby Doo. Our brains stutter to correct this wrong; they want justice for the perceived misdeeds, both to reestablish fair and the secure one’s own position in the good guy role.

So, we turn to the divorce courts with much the same intent as a child tattling on a classmate that threw a surreptitious blow.

But the divorce courts aren’t set up to punish individual misdeeds. They punish the entire class.

I, like many others, approached court looking for justice. I carefully spelled out his wrongdoings. I gathered evidence that secured my role as the good guy and painted him as the bad. I was hurt and anger and confused by his choices. They were painful. And I wanted him punished.

And the system was only too happy to play along.

Requests for information traveled back and forth through emails. Thick stacks of legal papers filled my mailbox, seemingly alternating with thinner, but more pointed envelopes containing bills for legal fees. Every step of the process felt like wading through chest-deep mud. The only lifeline keeping me from sinking was the vision of the court ordered consequences.

The system also used fear as a trap. In my case, it was fear for my financial future. I had understood that I needed this process and documentation to try to avoid some of his financial infidelities. In many other cases, the fear is tied to the children, the preferred pawn of the courts. The system uses children like dog racing uses a fake rabbit lure to entice the dogs to run. When you’re chasing something, you’re too focused to see the bigger picture.

We come to family court with our emotions raw, sick and sad with the loss of the marriage and the future we evisioned.

We come to family court angry that we have been wronged and wanting to lash out.

We come to family court confused at where we are, convinced that our life story has been misread.

We come to family court scared, clinging on to anything after experiencing the pain of losing everything.

We come to family court desperate, looking for something, anything, to make it okay.

We want it to be fair.

But that’s not what the courts are about.

 

My new husband asked me if I wish I had done my divorce differently. I thought back to the months filled with unanswered depositions, false and outlandish claims and sick days taken to talk to lawyers. I thought back to the three foot stack of files that had been paid for with over half my annual salary. I thought back to the day in court where, instead of taking the stand and being able to tell my side of the story, I sat alone in a hallway awaiting the decisions of the attorneys and the judge. I thought back to the decree, my relief when I saw justice in black and white and my despair when soon after, I learned that it wasn’t really enforceable.

My eventual response was that I didn’t know if I could have done it any differently. At least not at the time.

The thing about divorce court is that you only know how the game is played after the cards have been put away.

My now-husband probed further, asking what I got out of the divorce. That answer was easier. I got a divorce. The rest – the hours on the phone, the piles of paper, the carefully worded questions and allegations – were just noise.

 

I went into the divorce process looking for the system to establish fairness. I had convinced myself that I needed that judgement in order to heal and move on. I gave the courts the power to determine if I was going to be okay.

But the courts punish everybody involved.

My $30,000 divorce decree was ultimately only good for changing my name.

It was up to me to change my life.

 

I found a way to turn the pain and anger into something positive, using my story and my writing to help others through the desolate wastelands of the end of a marriage. I found justice, not by punishing his misdeeds, but by taking ownership of my own life and striving to do better. I worked to find acceptance and peace despite the perceived lack of consequences.

 

So I learned to reframe fair.

Divorce is not fair.

Looking for fairness within the system is a snipe hunt, with frustration and disappointment the only outcomes.

But justice can come from within.

You can balance the scales in your own life so that you can find peace.

You can choose to let go of what is causing you suffering.

You can find acceptance rather than struggle.

That’s fair.

And no lawyers are needed.

 

Divorce Corp, a movie about the  $50 billion a year divorce industry, is opening in select cities this weekend. The goal of the filmmakers is to expose and then reform the divorce process so that individuals and families can make the best decisions possible through a difficult time. Check here to see when it will be showing near you.

And then let your voice be heard.