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?
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 (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 (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.
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.
Do you find yourself fixated on the past, caught up in the “what if’s” and ” I should haves”? It is so easy to get lost in that world; it is like a labyrinth made of memories, embracing us in its tangled folds. Here are some suggestions on how to escape the temporal maze and look to your future.
One of the responses I frequently get to my story is, “What an idiot for getting caught.” He wasn’t an idiot, but he certainly underestimated me.
In my former life, I had a tendency to want to turn away from anything scary or ugly. My ex obviously knew this, and he exploited it towards the end of the marriage. I believe that he thought I would be so shocked and devastated by the “good-bye” text, that I would be paralyzed with fear. He thought wrong. Instead of hiding, instead of turning away, I was driven to find out what happened.
First, let me clarify. The text was abrupt. Sudden. The marriage that I knew, that he led me to see, was good. He refused to respond to any calls or texts after he left. He took all but one of the computers (mine), all of the financial documents, and strange things (like the discs that held the papers I wrote for grad school). The passwords on all of the accounts had been changed. It made no sense.
So, I immediately went into detective mode. By getting into the financial accounts, I learned of an affair and financial deceptions going back years. I also learned where he currently was staying (a few states over). It gave some answers. The emails gave the rest. Because of the way our accounts were linked, I was able to see the messages sent to his junk folder, which included those that were carbon copied.
It only took a few days for the first interesting email to come through. This one indicated plans for a visa for an upcoming trip to Uganda with the mistress. Interesting. Seemed like he was running.
The big shocker came three days after that. A message I had to read several times to grasp the meaning of. It initiated from a band in the town where he was staying. It seems they were looking for payment for a wedding they had recently performed at. His wedding.
Oops.
That started the chain that led to his arrest and bigamy charge.
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 