You Are Not Your Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Our traumas help to form us, but we do have to let them define us.   You are not what happened to you. You are not your suffering.  The first step in healing is taking ownership of your reactions and choosing to respond in a manner which will help you let go of the past.

You will always see the event as a delineation in your memories; there is a “you” before and a different “you” after that has been changed by the trauma. When you become stuck, you view the repercussions of the event as malevolent and place the responsibility for the changed self on the event.

It happened.  It hurt.  It changed you.  By letting it define you, you simply give it more power.  You have the ability to create beauty out of the pain.

One of the most powerful images I held in my mind during my divorce was that of how I handled a fallen tree in my garden.  I had a large tree come down in an area where I had cultivated a beautiful woodland garden.  Those delicate plants were now exposed to the harsh midday sun and would not survive.  I mourned the loss of the area for a day or so and then I went to work.  I dug up and moved all of the shade-lovers and replanted them in new areas that would still give them the shelter they needed.  I then loaded up my car with sun-loving plants from the nursery (yes, this was the fun part!) that I never had space for before. I was able to create a new, different, but even more beautiful garden where the tree had fallen.

Are you letting your divorce define you? Do you give it (or your ex) the power to control your life now?  This is a choice and you can change your mind.

Consciously Choosing to Move Forward.

If You’re Spewing Poison, It Means You’re Carrying a Reservoir of It

Posted on by stilllearning2b

…and is that really what you want to carry?

An Indian cobra in a basket with a snake charm...
Image via Wikipedia

If You’re Going to Be a Scumbag, It’s Best Not to Have a Dog

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I can thank a dog for my current relationship.  I had gone out on two Match.com dates with my current partner, but was leaning towards another guy (foolish, I know).  Then, I received an email that he had rescued a puppy and he attached a picture of the cutest pup with the biggest head I had ever seen.  Well, I simply HAD to pay a visit to the puppy, didn’t I?

I was impressed that evening, with the dog, but mainly with his owner.  The pup was around 6 months old and had been rescued about 6 weeks prior.  He was calm, secure, and very obedient.   I’ve watched enough Cesar Millan to know that this says more about the owner than the dog.  I learned more about my boyfriend’s character that night through his dog than I had in two dates.  I still had trouble trusting words that were spoken to me, but I knew that his relationship with his dog and his dog’s behavior could not be faked.

Dogs have an amazing ability to see inside a person.  They do not fall for external appearances; they see through that smile to the emotions hidden below.  Their behavior reflects that of the humans around them; if their owners are stressed and unbalanced, they will be too.  They are mirrors.  If I had been more astute, I might have picked up on this from the dogs I had in my marriage; they became stressed and withdrawn, especially the dog that was my husband’s.

So if you’re a scumbag and want to keep that fact hidden, it’s probably best that you don’t get a dog.  They just might reveal your true nature.

Now that’s a balanced, happy pit bull!

Why I Became a Tough Mudder

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When I told my family last year that I had signed up (and paid good money) for an 11 mile obstacle run, I think their first response was to shuffle through their contacts looking for the psychiatrist I saw in the early months of the divorce.  “You’re doing WHAT?  Why?,” I heard repeatedly, usually followed with a resigned head shake, “You’re crazy.”  Crazy I may be, but I felt compelled to do the event and I am so glad that I did.  Tough Mudder was more to me than a run.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few months after the July disaster of my marriage, I signed up for my very first race ever: a half marathon.  This was a bit preemptive, since not only had I never competed, I still was weak and skinny.  I went into that race only having completed the distance once before.  That was the worst race of my life (cold, rain, illness), but I endured and made it through.  It was exactly the confidence boost I needed at that point.

Over the next several months, I ran more races, but none of them required me to dig all that deep into myself.  None of them gave me the sense of triumph over adversity that I was seeking.

 

Then came Mudder.  My boyfriend was the one who actually found this race and he proposed that we enter together.  I loved the idea immediately. With a shared purpose, we hit the gym with renewed vigor and not a little trepidation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The event itself was unbelievable.  It turned out that it was slated to be held in a dry county, so the money that normally went towards beer instead paid for a longer track – almost 15 miles up and down (did I mention up?) a motocross track.  The temperature was cold, and the water obstacles were colder, as volunteers emptied flats of ice into the streams.

 

 

 

It was an amazing challenge for my boyfriend and I to tackle together.  It gave a true sense of working together and overcoming adversity.  My other races had been alone; it was beautiful to have someone to share this with.  It helped me learn to trust him, learn that he was not going to abandon me when the going got tough.  We pushed each other, encouraged each other, lifted each other, and even shared some muddy, sweaty kisses.  It was amazing.

I think everyone, especially those re-centering after trauma, should do their own version of Tough Mudder. Something that pushes you further than you comfortably want to go.  Something to show you what you can accomplish.  Something to show you that discomfort is temporary.  Something to show you that the support of friends can help get you through when you want to quit.  When the big picture of what you have to overcome is too big, it helps to have a little Mudder to think back on and realize, “I can do this.”

 

 

 

Tough Mudder logo
Image via Wikipedia

 

…and a Small Step Back

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I have developed a bit of mail phobia since my divorce; it has a tendency to bite me just when I feel relaxed.  I got bit today.

I posted about my huge (psychologically speaking) win with the IRS when I was granted innocent spouse relief a month ago.  It seems like I let my guard down about taxes a bit too soon.  Today I received a letter from the state that the refund I was owed for 2012 will be applied to an outstanding balance (that I did not know about) from 2006, one of the years the IRS took away my culpability for.  It’s so hard not to let the anger surge forth again.  The dollar amount is not what bothers me, it is the fact that he still has not addressed his responsibilities and that I am still being asked to pay for his deeds two years after the legal divorce.  It makes me want to stomp and scream, curse his name, and declare how unfair it is.

But none of that will help.

The reality is that it is my mess to clean up even if I didn’t make it. I just need to get my big girl panties on, be thankful for what I have, and move on.

After I visit the punching bag, that is:)