At Some Point, It’s No Longer About the Nail

Posted on by stilllearning2b

When is it no longer about what hurt you?

 

In the beginning, I made it all about him.

What he did.

Why he did it.

How he did it.

Where he was.

Who he was.

 

It was an escape of a sort. A distraction. If I stayed focused on him, I didn’t have to think about me.

 

What I was going to do now that my life was washed away.

Why this happened to me.

How I was going to survive and rebuild.

Where I was going to live.

And who I was without him.

 

But at some point, I had to decide to make it all about me. To turn my energies towards what I could change rather than curse what I could not.

Because no matter how much attention I turned towards him, it wasn’t going to help me feel any better.

 

When you first step upon a nail, the sharp steel tearing through tender flesh, it is prudent to focus on the nail. First by removing the offending stake and then by examining it for any signs of rust or fragments left behind.

And then at some point, the nail no longer matters.

Only the wound is of consequence. And your attentions must turn to the ministrations of puncture care, ensuring that it heals fully without infection to poison the blood.

 

A difficult divorce is much the same. Once the distressing person has been removed, focus on them only leaves your wounds unattended.

Because at some point, the nail no longer matters.

Only you do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the Affair: When Does the Pain End?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

We think of it like a finish line.

Or a wall.

Some clearly defined boundary, delineating pain from not-pain.

After all, that’s how this all started.

You had that moment before the discovery of the affair when everything was okay and the world was as it seemed.

Then, you had that awful moment, that image or those words, that turned your world upside down. And every moment since has felt like a slow water torture of realization and grief, choking you while you somehow still manage to breathe.

And so we dream of that day when the pain will end, when the tortuous thoughts will cease and we can again sit up and breathe fully.

We place faith in the calendar, thinking that we can simply out-wait the pain as though we are in some staring contest.

Yet grief does not speak calendar.

We tell ourselves that once we receive an apology or altered behavior or a divorce decree that the pain will realize that it’s closing time and will make a dignified exit.

Yet pain does not leave when asked to do so.

We spend hours delving into our emotions, dissecting and processing, in the hope that eventually we can turn them into something of substance.

Yet betrayal leaves a lasting stain.

No matter how much time passes, what the person who betrayed you said or does, or how much you process what happened, you will always remember that you were betrayed. It is now part of you, woven into your very fiber.

Yet that doesn’t mean that you will hurt in the same way forever.

The pain of betrayal comes from two places – the treachery itself and the impact that it has on your ability to feel safe and loved again.

As you begin to trust again, in others, but even more importantly, in yourself, you will begin to heal some of that secondary wound.

As you begin to understand that the betrayal was not a rejection of you but an act of cowardice and selfishness, you will begin to restore your self-worth.

The pain doesn’t end.

It changes. It recedes. It quiets.

You will always remember.

But you will not always be submerged.

As slowly as the tide pulling away, you will again surface.

With the salt of your tears still clinging to your skin.

And the strength of survival encouraging you forward.

 

 

Four Things You DON’T Need to Move On After Divorce

Posted on by stilllearning2b

We often get in our own way after divorce, desperately wanting a way out from the pain while at the same time telling ourselves stories that only serve to hold us in the flames. I convinced myself myself that I needed everything from a jail sentence for him to an apology for me, all while ignoring the power that I held within myself.

 

In Order to Move On, You DON’T Need –

 

Justice

Justice looks differently for all of us. It may center on a certain ruling from the court or a visit from karma, putting your ex in a position similar to the one you’ve faced. Regardless of the specifics, a desire for justice is really a need for fairness. We’ve been knocked down and we want the fulcrum to shift the other way.

Chasing fairness is a form of chasing the dragon; no matter what you score, it will never be enough to meet the need. No consequence will undo the pain you feel and no repercussions will satisfy. And here’s the brutal truth – if they escape without a scratch, it does not prevent you from moving forward. But if you fixate on waiting for them to pay, you’re tethering your future happiness to their circumstances.

Instead of wishing them ill, shift your focus to being the best you. After all, there is no better revenge than living well. And if your ex happens to notice how awesome you’ve become and regrets their decision? Even better:)

 

An Apology

Those of us that have been cheated on or abandoned without so much as an insincere “sorry” casually tossed out over a departing shoulder have a tendency to give apologies almost a mythical standing. They become the holy grail of divorce, convincing us that once secured, we will find everlasting life.

I used to feel this way. And then I talked to a woman who got an apology. Several, in fact. And they were insightful and sincere, as her ex took full responsibility for hurting her and expressed true remorse for his actions. And you know what? She was still stuck. She got what she thought she needed and then when it didn’t work to relieve the pain, she became even more distraught.

It gave me pause. And then it made me angry. At myself. Why was I still allowing him to have this much power over me? I made up my mind in that moment to learn how to accept the apology I never received. 

 

Understanding

One of the most powerful realizations I had when healing from divorce – I’ll never be able to understand what my ex did because it is not something I could ever do. That single thought released months of anguished questioning and searching for answers that remained elusive.

Divorce is not a class in university. There is no final exam where you have to correctly identify the motivations behind your ex’s actions before you’re allowed to move on with your life. It’s okay to say, “I have no idea” and close the book on that chapter.

 

Closure

There’s no finish line. No “done” stamp. No graduation ceremony. We have this image of there being a defined end to the pain once we collect all of the missing pieces. As though divorce is some sort of video game quest where the end credits roll once you have located the last of the items.

Spoiler alert – it isn’t.

Closure isn’t a destination. It’s more of a choice. A choice that has to be made every day when you decide where you’re going to put your energy. Whatever you nurture, grows.

Here’s What You ACTUALLY Need to Move On –

 

Belief in Yourself

If you believe you can’t, you’re right. It all starts with your belief that you can be happy again. That there is more meaningful life ahead and, this is the most important part, that you have what you need to make that happen. You are not responsible for what happened to you, but where you go from here is up to you.

 

Time

You can’t force healing. It will take time for you to stand up again, much less take those first steps as am independent person. Give yourself the time and space needed. Divorce is a major loss of the past that is now in question, the present that has become unfamiliar and the future which is now erased. Be patient with yourself.

 

Processing

Time isn’t enough on its own. If you avoid your emotions, you are simply delaying the healing. In order to move on, you have to first move through. Face your pain. Become familiar with your feelings. Work through any unhealthy responses and beliefs you’ve developed and put in the effort to learn how to do better. To have a better life, you have to first understand and accept yourself.

 

Determination

One of the reasons that we tell ourselves that we need these things from others is because the work to heal after divorce is so. damn. hard. It feels impossible and so we assume that we must be missing some critical piece to make it happen. And that’s where the determination comes in. You have to want it. And you have to be willing to work for it. And if you are, nothing can stop you.

The Mistake You May Be Making With Your Divorce Pain

Posted on by stilllearning2b

“Why am I still hurting so badly?” the email implores of me, the writer speaking of her ten-year-old divorce.

As I read her message that details her divorce and her continued and prolonged sadness, I found myself thinking about how the modern western world handles death.

Before the rise of the modern medical and funeral industries, death was truly a family affair. Most people died at home, where there bodies were then washed and dressed by their loved ones. This intimate experience provided an opportunity for the survivors to come to terms with the loss and to grieve together. Denial or avoidance of the reality was simply not an option; there was too much to do.

Death has now become sanitized. Distanced. We have the ability to turn away when it becomes too much. We can keep the discomfort at arm’s length while we fill our minds with no shortage of distractions. By avoiding the grief, we prolong the grief.

And we’ve gotten quite adept at avoiding pain.

Not only when it comes to death, but also when it comes to divorce.

At first, it seems ideal to try to give the pain a wide berth. After all, we’re often advised, “If it hurts, don’t do it.” But sometimes that detour around the discomfort is an endless path and the only way out is through the thick of the heartbreak. Here, let me guide you.

How to Deal With the Pain From Divorce

 

When you continually avoid the pain, every time you feel the agony, it’s as raw as the first time.

 

Whenever I have an open day off work, I like to go to a Korean sauna across town. The wet area of the facility has a variety of pools ranging from hot to cold. Verycold. When I first lower my body into the frigid water, I gasp and then stop breathing as my body is shocked into silence. The cold slices through my skin and my panicking brain begs for me to leave.

Sometimes I listen to the alarm in my mind and I quickly exit the pool, where I immediately warm up again. Of course then, if I decide to reenter the pool, I have to start from scratch, beginning with the initial pain of the icy waters.

Other times, I am able to stay in the water. I focus on my breathing – slow deep inhale, pause, slow full exhale – until the screaming in my brain finally quiets. And as I hold my body still, a strange thing begins to happen. The shock and discomfort of the cold begins to recede and is instead replaced by a sense of calm surrender.

Emotional pain is no different. If you strive to avoid the discomfort, you inadvertently expose yourself to the initial trauma time and time again. However, with prolonged exposure, you begin to acclimate to the grief. You begin to trust that even though it is terrible, it is not fatal. You learn how to focus on loosening the bindings around your heart so that you can allow your breath in and in doing so, begin to calm the mind.

If you’re struggling to stay with emotional pain, start by training yourself to tolerate physical discomfort. Try hot yoga, distance running or even an ice cold bath. Let the body begin to teach the mind.

Recognize the power that you’re giving the pain when you constantly strive to avoid it.  We seek to turn away from pain because we fear it, yet maybe what we should really fear is the denial of a natural and ultimately, illuminating, emotion.

When you repeatedly tell your story, you move from character to narrator.

 

 

When trauma first happens, people are often compelled to tell their story, with all its gory details, to anyone who will listen (or at least pretend to listen). This early telling is emotional. A re-experiencing where the body punctuates each word with its visceral memories of the pain.

And in time, this drive to recite the story fades. And often at this point, people pack up their memories and lock them away in some dark recess of the mind. Yet in doing so, they’re missing a powerful healing opportunity.

Researchhas revealed that the power of EMDR, a type of therapy that uses eye movements to help neutralize trauma, is not in the specialized actions, but in the continual recounting of the difficult experience in a safe and supportive environment. With repeated exposure, the person gains a little more distance from the pain and even begins to feel some power over it as they begin to shape the narrative structure around their memories.

Another way to practice retelling your story until you gain some space is through the use of journaling. Write your experience. Take a slightly different viewpoint and write it again. Try expressing it in third person. As you expose yourself to the pain repeatedly, it loses its power over you.

Healing from intense pain is like suturing a deep wound.

 

 

I remember being so raw. Emotionally guuted and bleeding tears. Yet life continued and I was needed. So I managed to tuck the pain inside for most of the days so that I could function in the world. And to many, I probably appeared fine. But the wound was only closed on the surface. The real healing was happening beneath.

The care for an emotional wound is not unlike a physical one. Let it breath. You may need to keep it covered while you’re at work or when you have to put on a brave face for the kids. But when it’s safe, take off the bandage and let the fresh air in.

Keep the wound clean to avoid festering. Sometimes you have to remove debris that is impeding healing. And it will sting. But that pain is necessary to keep you healthy.

Don’t poke at it. Differentiate between pain that is helpful (exploring your response to a trigger) and unneeded agony (checking your ex’s Facebook every day).

And like a physical wound, once the injury has already occurred, the offending object that caused the damage is no longer of consequence. Only the healing matters.

Don’t wait until you are healed to begin living. There are smiles to be found amongst the tears.

 

Part of dealing with the pain is being with the pain. But that’s not the whole story. Because even though you hurt right now, you are not only the hurt. Pain does not restrict you to a waiting room while life passes you by. It’s okay to keep living even while you still ache. After all, smiles and tears can often be found together.

 

I Was Lucky

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I was lucky. I never spent time in a decaying marriage. The lies that destroyed the relationship protected me for its duration, keeping me cloaked in relative comfort.

I was lucky. I never had to wrestle with the question of should I stay or should I leave? That decision was made for me.

I was lucky. I never had the pain of hoping for or trying for reconciliation. You cannot reconcile with someone who has become a ghost in his own life.

I was lucky. We did not have children. I did not have to see the pain on their faces, nor engage in a battle for them through the courts.

I was lucky. I had a clean, sudden amputation of my life, my marriage. The trauma was near-fatal, but I was left with a clean cut.

I know not all of you are so lucky. You may be deciding if your marriage can be saved. You may be hoping that it can still work out, alternating between hope and despair. You may be subject to painful contact with your ex. You may have to tuck your kids in, wishing you could take their pain away.

Even if your marriage did not end in a sterile amputation, you still have some control over how it heals. Take care to keep the wound clean and expose it to fresh air. Tight bandages may hide the damage for a time, but the wound will only fester when it is kept in the dark. Do not worry at the healing skin. Leave the scabs until they fall off of their own accord; they provide needed protection. Be gentle with the new skin, the new growth, for it is still fragile with its pink-tinged hope. Sooth the wound with the balm of your friends and family, your pets, your passions. And know that the scars only serve to make you even more beautiful.