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.

6 Lessons in Learning to Live Life Without Your Loved One

Posted on by stilllearning2b

These lessons also apply to loss through divorce or separation.

6 Lessons in Learning to Live Life Without Your Loved One.

The most difficult lesson for me was to allow myself to feel the grief and the pain.  I became an expert at filling my life with distractions (luckily, healthy ones, but distractions nonetheless).  I was afraid that if I let the feelings in, that they would become a tsunami, crushing me under their power.

I had to make conscious decisions in the beginning to let myself feel some of it.  My mind acted like a seawall, allowing some of the wave through, but holding part back.  I was able to feel and process a little at a time, so that no one experience was too overwhelming.  This piecemeal approach takes time, but it has worked for me because it breaks it down into manageable chunks, whereas the whole would be too much to bear.

6 Lessons in Learning to Live Life Without Your Loved One

Divorce Survival Flowchart

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When I found myself suddenly single with no prior experience dealing with break-ups, I initially turned to books for ideas on how to heal.  The books had no end of suggestions, but they were buried in pages and pages of text that I simply could not manage to wade through at that time.  I needed a simple fix, something that would tell me what to do that didn’t require a full-night’s sleep or a full mental capacity to understand.  I created a version of the flowchart below to help me get through those early days, weeks, and months.  Maybe it can help you too.

I’d love to hear what you do or have done when you find yourself in these moods.  What would be on your flowchart?

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.

Layering Isn’t Just for Sweaters

Posted on by stilllearning2b
English: Icelandic sweater Deutsch: Islandpullover
Image via Wikipedia

One of the most difficult aspects of separation is dealing with the memories.  I remember on my first solo grocery shopping trip, I burst into tears at the sight of the sparkling water my husband used to buy.  If I couldn’t even handle the sight of an innocuous green bottle, how was I ever going to handle the places and objects that sparked real memories?

In the early months, my primary strategy was avoidance as much as possible.  It wasn’t easy, though, as I lived about 6 miles from our former home and I still worked just around the corner.  I secured a P.O. box in the area for that first year and I would take the most circuitous, traffic-laden route to get there so that I didn’t have to drive by my old neighborhood.  Even so, I lived with constant reminders since I was so close to the crime scene.

Even while I tried to practice avoidance with the everyday reminders, I sought to consciously layer memories of the big things, I fought to take back psychic possession of certain locations or activities that he and I had done together.I staked my  claim on those memories I refused to let him have them. By revisited with others and layering memories, I could once again look at those places with fondness.

It was a surreal time.  I dragged city-loving friends on hikes through the mountains.  I faced the place in the airport where I last touched my ex with a  date, on our way to see the Smithsonian.  I went with groups of friends to the restaurant where he and I ate weekly.

At first, this layering was very deliberate, intentional.  Over time, I found that it became second nature, even to the point of applying a second layer without thought.  Much as one does with a sweater when the wind bites a bit too much.