loss

Five Healthy Ways to Fill the Void After Divorce (And What to Look Out For!)

Posted on April 14, 2019March 6, 2024 by stilllearning2b

From the chilled and vacant bed to the endless evening hours to the loss of a trusted confidant, the void left in your life after divorce can be both vast and agonizing. The emptiness begs to be filled, the cracks call for smoothing over and you try to distract yourself from staring too long at the vastness of the crater in your life.

Watch Out For These Unhealthy Ways to Fill the Void-

In an attempt to soothe the initial pain from divorce, many of us first turn to one or more of the following unhealthy (and ultimately ineffectual) methods of trying to fill the vacuum:

Filling Your Belly to Try to Fill Your Heart

When you’re feeling gutted and vacuous, it can be natural to turn to food for relief, mistaking the temporary physical fullness for emotional satiety. There is a very real link between emotions and food – we often speak of “comfort foods,” bring food to those in mourning and bond with others over a meal. Yet the real comfort comes less from the sustenance and more from the nourishment of the connection with others.

When you attempt to feed an emotional hunger with food, you will never be completely satisfied because you are addressing the wrong area of need. Repeatedly turning to food may have a detrimental impact on your health and will also serve to widen the disconnect between your mind and body.

Avoiding Reality With Alcohol or Drugs

Emptiness is uncomfortable. A sense of free falling through space is frightening. In those dark and lonely hours when you’re alone and worried that you’ll always be alone, it can be tempting to numb the pain and quiet the fear through chemistry.

And there will be relief in the moment, those blissful moments where you are able to forget reality and embrace a dream world. Yet reality always bursts back in, throwing open the door and blinding you with its harshness. Trying to avoid it only delays the inevitable confrontation and acceptance.

Bolstering Confidence With Shopping

It’s no wonder that shopping is a common pastime for those that are feeling down – the hunt of a good bargain and the acquisition of new baubles rewards us with a feel-good burst of dopamine. Those who have experienced an esteem hit after infidelity and/or divorce can be especially drawn to the appeal of covering the vulnerable skin with fancy clothes, new cars or a designer house.

Shopping gives us an opportunity to briefly occupy a fantasy world where the advertisements and markers have us convinced that material goods are associated with a particular life. But the thrill is always temporary, the boost short-lived. Chasing the tail of this dragon can ultimately be devastating to both your wallet and your well-being.

Distracting From the Pain by Dating

When you’re facing the heartbreak and the hollowness that follows the end of a relationship, there can be a powerful craving to experience the excitement and potential of new partnerships (even if they only last the night). Giving in to this desire too soon is like going to the grocery store hungry; you are not going to be able to make good decisions.

Additionally, when you’re still vulnerable, dating can often serve to highlight the void you feel as you realize that this person in front of you is really a stranger and that your early feelings are more hope and projection than actuality. It’s often better to wait to re-enter the dating scene until that compulsive desire to replace your partner has faded.

Passing the Time By Consuming Media

What is easiest is often not what is best for us. And nowhere in modern culture is this more apparent than in the consumption of media. In a moment of loneliness, we may turn to Facebook for the sense of connection, yet studies show that browsing the platform leaves people feeling even more isolated. When we’re feeling low, we easily give in to a Netflix binge, expecting to feel more rested. When instead, television (especially when consumed in binges), only intensifies feelings of sadness and fatigue.

Instead, Try These to Fill the Void –

The previous strategies may work for a short period of time but ultimately, they will cause more harm than good as they prevent you from healing the wound from within. Instead of leaning on those quick fixes in an attempt to fill the void left from divorce, try building yourself up through the following strategies. Be patient – these methods may take longer to work than the unhealthier ones, but their results are lasting and authentic.

Finding Purpose Through Work

With divorce, you lose one of your major life roles, that of husband or wife. It can be an uncanny feeling as you wonder what position you now occupy and what purpose you now serve. Depending upon your particular circumstances, this can be an opportunity to allocate more of your energy into your career.

You may find that the changes in your life allow you to take bigger risks or to break out of your standard mold. Changes in your home life may have given you extra time to commit to your job or financial matters may necessitate that you undertake a new endeavor.

Often, when you’re feeling like a failure in your personal life, successes at work take on even greater meaning. Use this opportunity to recommit or reinvent your work persona. Strive to carve out a position where you feel needed, appreciated and interested.

Building Strength and Poise Through Movement

Divorce has a way of making you feel weak. Powerless. And exercise in any form is an excellent way to begin to reclaim your strength and feeling of control over your life. The best form of exercise to undertake is the one that you enjoy and that you can pledge yourself to.

It’s harder to feel powerless when you accomplish the goals you have set for yourself. It’s harder to feel vulnerable when you feel the increase in your performance capacity from week to week. As you throw yourself into movement, focusing on form and breath, the void no longer seems so vast or so dark.

If you’re struggling with sadness and isolation during unstructured hours, use exercise to build a framework around those times. If you flounder without accountability, sign up for group or team exercise so that you have others to answer to. And if you’re feeling disconnected from your body, opt for yoga or weight training so that you can again reconnect with yourself.

Reclaiming Vitality Through a Passion Project

What endeavor encourages you into a state of flow, where your entire focus is on what is at hand and time seems to stop? What activity did you used to enjoy in your youth or dream about turning into a career? What is something that you have always been curious about trying but practicality and circumstances have stopped you? These are hints about your passions, your interests that both consume you and fuel you.

The period after divorce provides a wonderful opportunity for pursuing or restoring a passion project. I know of people who have picked up the violin again, started stand-up comedy, written a book or chartered a non-profit charity. Others, selecting a more physical approach, sign up for a marathon or strive to earn the next belt level in Jiu Jitsu.

The “what” matters less than the enthusiasm you have for the enterprise. When you throw yourself into something that you enjoy and find success in, you breathe life back into the hole in your heart. When you’re passionate about something, you focus more on creation rather than any residual emptiness.

Rising By Lifting Others

When we’re feeling alone and eviscerated by divorce, we can easily become a captive of our own minds. The thoughts cycle and the self-pity begins to grow in our emotional isolation. Perhaps the best way to both put problems in perspective and help jettison us from our thoughts is by empowering others.

If you have children, strive to help them become strong, independent and compassionate people. Reach out to your friends and family that are in need and find ways to help to liberate them from their struggles. Help strangers through your church or a volunteer organization, selflessly sending positivity into the world. If you find people overwhelming, consider helping by adopting an abandoned pet or volunteering in an animal shelter.

Giving to others helps you feel better about yourself and also allows you to shift your focus away from your pain. As you give to others, you will find that paradoxically, you become filled yourself.

Generating Legacy Through Creation

Some of the most beautiful and lasting art, music and prose has been born of heartbreak. Even if you’re not destined to be the next Shakespeare or next year’s Beyoncé, you can still use your pain as an impetus for creation.

Even if it never sees the light of day, the mere act of using your sorrow as a conduit through your medium of choice helps to transform your relationship with the heartache. As you create, you’re building scaffolding throughout that void left from divorce. Scaffolding that you can then use to begin to climb your way out of the darkness.

When Gratitude is Your Wrapping Paper

Posted on November 27, 2018March 8, 2024 by stilllearning2b

When gratitude is your wrapping paper, everything is a gift.

If someone had told me ten years ago that I would ever be grateful for my tsunami divorce, I would have thought they were ignorant. Or cruel. Or, at the very least, utterly clueless and insensitive.

But, you what?

They would have been right.

My divorce was a doozy: 16 years of what-I-thought-was wedded bliss suddenly amputated with a single text message. This was followed by the discovery of marital fraud and felony bigamy. In one instant, the life I had was gone and it was stolen by the man who had lovingly kissed me goodnight for my entire adult life.

Needless to say, I was angry. Confused. Heartbroken. As the months carried into the first anniversary and beyond, it was difficult not to remain painfully focused on what I had lost. I was actively building a new life and was joyous in it, yet I drew a hard line that kept that same gratification from touching my past.

And that strategy worked for a time, as long as my past knew its proper place. But it never stayed put in the history books for long. Letters would arrive about new debts that I had to somehow pay, triggers would pounce from the most innocuous of events and fears of trusting again became apparent in my new relationship.

It became clear that ordering my past to simply sit and stay like an obedient dog wasn’t an effective approach.

So I did something radical.

I was inspired by the gratitude lists that circulate social media every fall. I love those lists. I enjoy reading how people are thankful for their families, their jobs and their health. I smile when I see their pictures of cooing babies or mischievous puppies. I appreciate the renewed energy that spills from accounting one’s blessings.

Those lists are beautiful.

Heart warming,

But I also think they’re a cop-out.

It’s easy to be thankful for the good things in your life. It’s easy to summon gratitude for the people and situations that bring us joy.

Don’t get me wrong; it’s valuable to take the time to enumerate those things you appreciate.

But it’s even more valuable to find reasons to be thankful for those things that bring us pain or grief or anger.

When gratitude is your wrapping paper, everything is a gift.

Much like an oyster encapsulates an irritating bit of sand with glorious mother of pearl, you can choose to envelop the torments in your life with thankfulness.

And so that’s what I did. Every time I wrote a check to pay for the hidden debts that were left in my lap, I wrote a reason I was grateful for the opportunity. I composed a list of reasons I was thankful for my ex, effectively muffling the pain. I taught myself to recognize the negative emotions and, rather than try to stuff them down or ride them out, I actively wrapped them in gratitude.

And it turns out that gratitude was the key to releasing me from the prison of my past. It happened. It altered me. But it does not control me. You cannot always change your circumstances, but you can always change your response. Gratitude is a choice you can always make.

So, I leave you with a challenge that can turn your greatest sufferings into your greatest gifts.

But it won’t be easy.

I call it radical gratitude for a reason. Radical because it’s intense.  Difficult.  Almost unthinkable.  But also because it has the chance of being life changing.

Identify the one person or thing or situation in your life that has caused you the most grief. The most pain. The most anger.

Find that dark hole that bleeds you.

That curse.

Maybe it’s an ex. Or an abusive parent. Perhaps it’s your job or lack thereof. Possibly, you face an illness that has stripped your body or had an accident that stole your health in one fell swoop. Maybe it’s not the presence of a person, but the loss of one.

Whatever it is, identify it.

And then be grateful for it. Create a list of ten reasons that you are thankful for your biggest challenge.

You can share it – here or elsewhere – or you can keep it to yourself.

But write it. Believe in it. And then release it.

When gratitude is your wrapping paper, everything is a gift.

The Pitch-Black Room

Posted on November 9, 2018March 10, 2019 by stilllearning2b

Heartbreak is a pitch-black room.

At first, you’re disoriented. Confused. How did the familiar world become replaced by this sarcophagus of grief?

There are no windows. No doors. Only darkness.

And you’re all alone. You can hear life as usual just outside your walls, but you are separated from the activity.

The air feels funny. It’s too dense, making every breath a struggle. It presses down on you as you try to move. It feels as though it’s squeezing your very life away.

And yet somehow, your lungs keep following orders. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

In that pitch-black room, there is no day or night.

No hot or cold.

No anything, really.

You scream, both in an attempt to release your pain and in an attempt to feel it. The sound echoes off the walls, filling the void until the vibrations cease.

You find that you’re going through the motions. More an act of habit than an act of living.

You dutifully lay down in the bed only to realize later that you’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours, sleep remaining elusive.

You prepare a meal only to sit down and realize that you’re not hungry.

You drink. Not because you’re thirsty, but because some primal part of brain tells you that you must.

You despise the room, with its absence of light and its reverberations of pain. But you also begin to grow comfortable with the room. You know its every corner. And you become accustomed to its confines. It’s life distilled into its most bitter essence. Terrible, but familiar. You begin to forget that there is anything other than this pitch-black room.

The first glimpse of light catches you off-guard. It feels good and wrong all at once. It’s welcome, yet it doesn’t belong. You even feel guilty for smiling at the glow. As though you’re somehow betraying the solemness that the room demands.

You decide to investigate further, drawn to the possibility that there is more than darkness. But as you approach, the light flickers out.

Over the next days…weeks…months… who knows? time has no meaning here…the light reappears of its own volition. Sometimes it fades as soon as it appears. And sometimes the light remains for some time.

You become hopeful. And then defeated, mad at yourself for letting optimism in. After all, this is now your room.

But still the light persists, growing just a little brighter every day.

Until one day, you are able to see the room more clearly. There’s a window after all. And you can see outside. You want to be outside. You desperately search for a way out. But find nothing.

Pacing in frustration, you begin to tell yourself that you’re stuck. That this darkness is all that you’ll know. You repeat it so much that it becomes gospel. So much so that you’re unable to accept the appearance of door in the once-smooth wall.

And then once you see it, you find that you’re both excited about a way out and frightened about the possibility of escape. Because what if you take that step out only to have your heart broken again?

You finally summon your courage, take that tentative step. Your first ventures out are short. You return to the room when you remember your sadness and often, you find your way back there through no reason at all.

The visits slowly become less frequent. Their duration shortens. You find yourself becoming more a part of the outside world and less a resident of the room.

The room is always there. Its walls are solid, bricks of heartache mortared with tears. You know that you can stop by and visit. And sometimes you seem to find yourself there when the calendar reaches certain days or a memory is triggered.

But you also know that you can step out of the room again. And you can close the door behind you.

The pitch-black room holds the memories, and it no longer holds you.

We’ll Get Through This Together

Posted on October 22, 2018March 8, 2024 by stilllearning2b

There are many words that feel amazing to receive:

“I love you.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“You are amazing.”

“I appreciate you.”

There are times those are the words we need to hear. They let us know that we’re seen, accepted, valued and cared for. These words are the valuable currency of relationships that both build bonds and and help to provide reinforcement against outside assaults.

Yet there is a phrase that can be even more powerful. One that often follows on the heels of difficult news – a death, a diagnosis, a loss, a revelation of a closely held secret. And in those moments, when we’re feeling skinned and bare, shivering in naked fear and uncertainty, the best words we can hear are –

“We’ll get through this together.”

Those words don’t minimize or project meaningless platitudes. They fall short of promising an optimistic outcome yet they still carry the scent of hope. Instead, the phrase suggests that now will not be always and there is a way through, even if it is not yet known.

And most importantly, those simple words reassure you that you’re not alone. They speak of shoulders ready to accept tears and strong arms prepared to render assistance. With that utterance, you know that you have a safe space where you can break down without concern for appearances or consequences.

It’s amazing how powerful a simple hand can be when it folds over yours during life’s most difficult moments. Sometimes, just having someone there makes the difference between giving up and getting up. The presence of another both gives us a reason to try and the encouragement to try again.

“We’ll get through this together.”

Powerful words to hear. And even more powerful words to believe. We are not meant to face these hardships on our own. We’re in this life together. And we’ll make it through together.

How We Act When We’re Afraid of Losing Someone

Posted on August 13, 2018March 10, 2019 by stilllearning2b

I remember that day vividly.

My then-husband was in Brazil, supposedly on a work trip. I was at home and unable to reach him when he failed to return to Atlanta at the anticipated time. As the panic rose, I alternated between frantically looking for information on the internet (Was there a plane crash? A tourist attacked in San Paulo? A car crash leaving the Atlanta airport?) and uselessly pacing the upstairs hallway.

I called his employer and received a non-answer. It was only later that I learned that they thought he was still in Atlanta since he wasn’t dispatched on a job.

I saved the number for U.S. Embassy in Brazil, telling myself to hold off until the next day before I made that call.

I contemplated driving to the airport, where at least I would be little closer to any news.

At some point, the anxiety and powerlessness reached untenable levels and I set out for a run, the brick of my flip phone clutched in my hand. I uttered desperate pleas for information as I hit the pavement, the movement a poor substitute for meaningful action.

He came home the next day.

He left for good three months later.

That wasn’t the first time that I was afraid of losing him. In fact, from the moment I “had” him, I worried about the loss of him.

There was the time when we first started dating that he showed interest in another girl and I pretended that it wasn’t happening until the situation resolved itself. Then, there was the 1969 Ford truck whose headlights had a propensity to cut out while he driving the back roads in the Texas Hill Country. I pleaded with him not to drive that vehicle, convincing myself that he was safe as long as he operated another car. There was a cross-country move while I still remained in Texas for the semester with the unknowns inherent in a long-distance relationship. I compensated that time by planning for our upcoming wedding; surely talk of our futures would keep the plan on track. That was followed by a car accident where his small car ended up underneath an eighteen wheeler. Up until that moment, that was the closest that I had knowingly come to losing him. I responded by breaking down in the living room of my apartment, our pug nervously burrowing into my neck which was wet with tears. Interestingly enough, the fears I should have heeded never even crossed my mind.

Over the course of our sixteen years together, I carried a fear of losing him. And in so many ways, that fear kept me from actually seeing him. I allowed fear to be my chauffeur.

That’s the thing when we’re afraid of losing someone – we take a rational fear (after all, death and divorce are a part of life) and we respond to it in irrational ways –

Fear of losing someone can present as: Denial

Apparently this was my favored approach during my first marriage (although I would have denied it vehemently at the time). Even while my general sense of anxiety built, I refused to examine the little inconsistencies that hinted at something going on behind my back. I was worried about losing him to death (especially as his hypertension continued to worsen); I never imaged that he would leave.

We all have a propensity to shove the unthinkable out of our minds as though if we don’t allow it mental space, it cannot manifest into existence. “It is impossible,” we declare. “They would never…” we insist. “It just can’t happen,” we recite, until we believe it to be true.

I’ve learned since to look more closely whenever I have strong feelings of dismissal arise. It may be that there is something hiding behind those feelings.

Fear of losing someone can present as: Bargaining

We know of bargaining as one of the “stages” of grief. What we don’t often consider is that the bargaining begins well before the loss. This often takes the form of, “If you stay, I’ll change.”

Bargaining can feel like a rational approach with its exchange of services. Yet underneath the transaction is an overwhelming aversion to loss, which means the promises made may be too big to deliver and the promises looked for in exchange may not be kept.

Fear of losing someone can present as: Control

Sometimes, the attempt at control is overt – the partner that keeps tabs on their spouses whereabouts in an attempt to prevent them from straying. Others are more subtle, operating with a clinginess that limits movement. “I love yous” turned into bindings.

Rarely does this method work. Not only are many things outside of our control, but there is no surer way to push someone away than to tell them they’re not allowed to go.

Fear of losing someone can present as: Indulging

I see this one sometimes as a teacher. When I encounter children that are overindulged and encouraged to remain needy, I often learn about a history of miscarriages or infertility or even the death of an older child. The parents, understandably so, are so afraid of losing this child that they hold them in a childlike state even as they grow.

A variation of this presents in adult relationships. The one who is afraid of loss tries to fulfill every need of the other in an attempt to make themselves invaluable. “If you need me, you can’t leave me,” the inner voice insists as they continue to turn themselves inside out to carry out even the unspoken requests.

I found myself starting to do this towards the end of my marriage. It was a subconscious, yet desperate attempt, to keep him with me.

Fear of losing someone can present as: Begging

“Please don’t do this this way,” my initial email to my absent husband begged. I still had the fantasy that if only I could talk to him, I could somehow change his mind (this was before I knew the extent of the betrayals).

I felt increasing powerless as my pleas were ignored. The reality is that I had no hope of changing his decision. As an independent creature, he had every right and ability to act as he saw fit.

Begging is the brain’s way of delaying the inevitable. It’s a stall tactic, and nothing more.

Fear of losing someone can present as: Panic

This is the most irrational of them all and also the most powerful. This is the death grip on the rope, the worst of the “what ifs” manifested all at once. Sometimes this can be triggered by an event and sometimes it can arise solely from internal worries. Once we’re in this state, it’s difficult to return to reality.

Tiger, the world’s best pit bull, taught me so many things. Not the least of which was how to say goodbye without fear. We loved that dog and were devastated to learn suddenly that he had a fatal bleed from a tumor on his heart. He was only eight.

As the day progressed after the initial veterinary appointment, the news grew worse. We accepted the truth – the end was imminent. My husband and I took him home for a few hours of loving attention before we laid him down on the floor at the vet’s and surrounded him with our bodies.

We weren’t ready to say goodbye. But it was his time to go. Any attempt to keep him with us would have not only been ineffective, it would have cruel and selfish. All we could do is thank him for the time we shared.

Loss is an inevitable part of life. Fearing it does not stop it. Resisting it only serves to make the release that much harder. We rarely get to decide when the end comes. We’re not often offered a choice in the nature or circumstances of the loss.

Five Healthy Ways to Fill the Void After Divorce (And What to Look Out For!)

Watch Out For These Unhealthy Ways to Fill the Void-