psychology

Releasing a Dream

Posted on January 25, 2013 by stilllearning2b

I was 11 when I began stalking Adam.

Growing up, I spent a lot of time at friend’s houses. One friend had a younger brother who played Little League and she and I would frequently be dragged along to his games. Now, as sophisticated and suave 6th graders, we were well above watching the 8 year old’s play. We were into the big boys.

Notice the subtle stalking strategies of the human preteen... — Notice the subtle stalking strategies of the human preteen…

I developed an intense crush on a 13 year old named Adam. He was tall and thin with long blond hair. The hair was the important part – put some long locks on any boy at the time and I would start drooling. Adam was like Prince Charming and Jon Bon Jovi all rolled into one. The scary thing is that I knew more about Jon Bon Jovi than I did Adam. You see, although I still have an entire roll of pictures of him, I never summoned the nerve to approach him at the field. He went to a different school, so the intel I had on him was scarce and somewhat suspect.

But I didn’t care. I was happy enough to create his personality and interests while watching him run the bases. I’d weave fantasies of us running off together. I had pictures of him in my school binders (binders full of Adam?) and on my walls. He may not have known who I was, but he was a major fixture in my life. This continued for the next two years.

One day I heard my mom call across the house,

“Lisa. Telephone.”

Picking up, “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Adam. From the ballpark?”

I almost dropped the phone. It was a dream come true. I knew he had access to my number through a chain of friends, but I never imagined he would call.

Of course, I tried to play it cool.

“You go to —- high school, right?”

“Yeah.”

“A friend of mine goes there. Do you know —–?”

“Nope.”

“Do you play baseball for the school?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you play any other sports?”

“Nope.”

And that was what the entire conversation was like. All 30 minutes of it. He was nice enough, but he was no Prince Charming and certainly no Jon Bon Jovi. In fact, he was boring. He just happened to have long hair.

When I hung up the phone, I also hung up on my crush on Adam.

That was an easy dream to release. I had little invested in it and, as a boy crazy 13 year old, I had lots of other options on the horizon. He truly was easy come and easy go.

Not all dreams are so easy to release. The more time, effort and energy we have invested in a dream, the more we are committed to holding on even when all signs point to letting go. The more we see the dream as a reflection of ourselves, the tighter the binds to the image.

Dreams can be amazing and powerful motivators that help us make wonderful changes. They can inspire and encourage and carry us through the darkest days.

But some dreams are made entirely of fantasy. In order for a dream to become reality, it must contain elements of truth. If we hold tight to unattainable fantasies, we will never be content.

I faced this cold, hard fact dead on when my husband left. I had held tight to a dream of us growing old together. I saw us hand in hand with wrinkles covering our faces and our heads swathed in gray. That dream was no easy go. It was unbelievably painful as it was ripped from my grasp. But until I released it, I would not be happy.

So, how can you tell which dreams are inspirational and which are detrimental? How do you know if you should hold on or release your dream?

Fact Check: Don’t make the mistake I did with Adam. Check the elements of your dream against reality. Preferably sooner than later. Reality will hit regardless, but it’s nice to anticipate and plan for its arrival. Sometimes, the truth derails the dream entirely and sometimes it is merely a roadblock to work around. Regardless of what it is, awareness is key.

Alignment: Does your dream align with who you are and your core beliefs and needs? I see evidence of ignoring this one in the school system. Many second career teachers (especially in math) started out in fields where they were isolated all day. They had always dreamed of being an accountant/underwriter/etc., but they never though to realize that it didn’t align with their need for social interaction. Cue crushed dream.

Perspective: Sometimes the path to achieve a dream doesn’t become apparent until a new perspective has been gained. You pretty much have two choices here: keep on living and shelve the dream until your experiences give you direction or talk with others and hear their take on your aspirations. Of course, friends don’t always know what’s best. Mine encouraged my fantasies about Adam:)

Shift: Many dreams are not all or none. I’ve had fleeting fancies of running in the Olympics. But, let’s be honest. A 5’2″ 35 year old late in life runner has about as much chance of that as Tiger does of becoming president. So, a gold medal was out, but I could still shift my dream to running a marathon – the kind where they let anyone run:) Maybe the dream is the image that can motivate you to a more realistic reality.

And, for goodness sakes, if you have a crush on someone, don’t wait two years to talk to them!

Pardon Me, Ego. I Need to Get Through.

Posted on January 17, 2013May 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

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.

PTSD After Divorce

Posted on January 6, 2013June 18, 2015 by stilllearning2b

This is one of those links that I’ve pondered in the past but it has really come to a head in the past few days. First, Paulette posted the following review of my book:

Lisa Arends does an effective job in writing about the aftermath, the fallout, of a life-changing shock, on the abrupt desolation of her marriage. The read is a well done walk through all the PTSD and repeating changes that occur, which is depicted in a letter written to her by her exited husband, the commentary on the letter under the umbrella of the devastating changes she experienced, emotionally, physically and logistically are a walk through the fact that PTSD is not just relegated to victims of war, but to any life encounter that uproots your very existence in a shocking manner. She’s a likeable author, an engaging woman, that you take to and feel for, because she portrays the story, the horror she lived, with veracity and integrity, to allow the facts to unfold on the page even if they point a finger back to her (ie: a text from her spouse to his mother-in-law, Lisa’s mother). Devastation upon devastation unravels and what we hold onto dearly is lost, not just in the relationship but also in the family built around it, fury and otherwise. Arends navigates through this debacle with grace and humility, filled with emotions that are painted with strokes that are sure to offer others in similar situations some reflections and ground; she labels as “Lessons” chapter after chapter, ultimately culminating in what she has learned, valuable life lessons, applicable to anyone. But, this is not just a self-help work, or a read for someone in a similar situation, it’s a compelling story of the frailty and misconceptions we all live with, the thin line of trust & betrayal, confidence and fright, love and rejection, all the things that make the paradoxes of life and keep a balance, hopefully the balance stays in some semblance of equilibrium. In Arends case she tilts off the scale and by the Grace of her very nature, the love of her family, and whatever else strength she draws from she journeys through to meet what is most precious to all of us, connecting and opening to trust (applause to Tiger, no spoilers) despite all temptations not to, and in doing so, learning the ultimate, that love does conquer and cannot be soiled by another’s shadow cast upon our soul.

In the book, I never name PTSD. I only describe the events and my reactions. Yet, here was a third party who deemed that to be an accurate label.

Then, yesterday, a post from Out of the Chrysalis (Does PTSD After Divorce Exist? You Better Believe It) showed up in my inbox. I totally related to her description of her experience.

And I do believe it. PTSD happens when your mind cannot process the extent of the trauma. It’s like a short circuit in your nervous system, where you have trouble distinguishing between real and perceived threats. We tend to think of PTSD as occurring only in life-threatening situations, but it occur anytime there is an acute or prolonged trauma. Not all divorces lead to PTSD, but if it is sudden or abusive, the trauma can be severe and sudden enough to lead to PTSD-like symptoms.

According to the Mayo Clinic, the following are the symptoms of PTSD:

Symptoms of intrusive memories may include:

Flashbacks, or reliving the traumatic event for minutes or even days at a time
Upsetting dreams about the traumatic event

Symptoms of avoidance and emotional numbing may include:

Trying to avoid thinking or talking about the traumatic event
Feeling emotionally numb
Avoiding activities you once enjoyed
Hopelessness about the future
Memory problems
Trouble concentrating
Difficulty maintaining close relationships

Symptoms of anxiety and increased emotional arousal may include:

Irritability or anger
Overwhelming guilt or shame
Self-destructive behavior, such as drinking too much
Trouble sleeping
Being easily startled or frightened
Hearing or seeing things that aren’t there

From Mayoclinic.com.

After I received the text that ended my marriage, I experienced many of these symptoms. I had the flashbacks and the dreams. I had trouble thinking and remembering. I couldn’t sleep and I frightened easily. But, most of all I trembled constantly, my autonomic nervous system was on high alert, waiting for the next assault.

At first, the triggers were everywhere. Driving along the road that passed by my old house felt like traversing a field with buried landmines. I fully expected an explosion at any moment. I responded as though every mention of his name was literally a threat to my life. At any moment, I could be catapulted back to instant where I received the text. It was as though the phone was always in my hand.

My psychiatrist that I saw that first year stopped short of a full PTSD diagnosis, but she mentioned the disorder and selected medications that are used to treat it. I honestly don’t think I would have made it through without the medications. They allowed me to sleep and eat – two things I could not yet accomplish on my own.

Over time, the triggers decreased. I learned how to sleep and eat without assistance. I stopped the medications and was able to use meditation and exercise to reduce any symptoms. I can still feel the shadows of the trauma when I feel like I’m being abandoned again but, for the most part, my mind and body no longer confuse real and perceived threats.

After my divorce, I learned that most people assumed that depression would be the disorder de jour after a break up. They expected me to be sad and withdrawn. Instead, I was hyperalert, shaking and always on the lookout for the next blow. It’s important to realize that all divorces are not the same and we all respond differently. There is no ‘right’ way to be after a divorce. The labels can be helpful but even they only tell part of the story. Be gentle and understanding with yourself and others. Seek the help you need and know that it does get better.

I wrote more about PTSD after divorce on The Huffington Post.

Are you struggling to find your center again after divorce? My complete, 12-part coaching course can help you leave the trauma behind and find your way back to happy. Learn more!

Quitting vs. Letting Go

Posted on October 20, 2012May 20, 2013 by stilllearning2b

To the uninformed, these may appear to be the same thing. After all, they both require the release of something. Both create a void. And both originate from choice. Although on the surface quitting and letting go appear to be twins, the motivating substance behind the facades is quite different.

Quitting is born from fear or frustration. The latter tends to result in micro-quits; short periods where we give up and walk away only to return once sanity is again restored. Macro-quits, those life changing, never going to back decisions, are usually propelled by fear. You quit when you are afraid of what will happen when you proceed. Sometimes this is wise. Your fear may be telling you that the path is too treacherous and it is safer to turn back. However, fear is a sly companion. It is the taxi driver capitalizing on your ignorance to lead you astray. Fear will lie to you and tell you that you are in mortal danger when, in fact, you are perfectly safe. When you quit, you are listening to that fear and believing its stories. You may feel embarrassed or ashamed that you chose to throw in the towel. You may get defensive, throwing up walls and justifying your decision. When we quit out of fear, we often feel unfinished. Unsatisfied. Unsettled. When you let fear be your chauffeur, your destination will not be the one you intended.

Letting go happens when you face your fear. It is that moment when your fear is telling you to grip tight and you choose to release. Letting go is born of acceptance, an understanding that you cannot control all of the outcomes. Letting go gives a sense of peace. Of weightlessness. Quitting is easy. Letting go is not. It is conscious, deliberate act that may take years or decades. It requires patience and compassion. Give yourself that gift and be the driver of your own life.