Anger like an exhale

I am trying to allow my anger to blow through me and around me, like an exhale.

I am angry that he changed, or perhaps that I didn’t recognize the cracks in him, waiting for the stress of life to shatter him and allow his dark, turbulent insides to come spilling out.  Perhaps that isn’t accurate either. I have been shattered too. The difference is that I put myself back together piece by piece with glue and cement. I am angry that he didn’t change. I am angry that he was a passive observer of his life and the way his actions impacted his family. He just left all his scattered pieces on the floor for others to cut their feet on. You can’t do the emotional work for someone else, no matter how much you might want to. I tried. I supported, listened, recommended, and cajoled. Finally, I told him what I needed from him. It wasn’t enough.

Now that his life is crumbling around him he finally sees just what he is losing. He sees that it is possible to lose those we do not actively cherish. He admitted that he wasn’t ready, that he lied in order not to lose me. Which proves, yet again, that he did not really know me at all, even after, at that time, six years of marriage and eight years together. I respect those who rise to the challenges that life throws our way. We do not always get the luxury of being ready. I was not ready, regardless of how prepared I thought I was, for the two tiny tornados of activity, trauma, and need that we ushered into our home. I don’t know that any new parent could ever be ready for that. But I rose to meet that challenge. I read, I learned, I tried, and I accepted support. I did not fight against it.

It is like riding a horse at a trot or a canter. If you move with the motion of the horse, it is a smooth ride. If you post on the wrong stride, you just end up with a sore bottom. Okay…I admit…my bottom has been rather sore. I am working on it. Being a mom is freaking hard.

We are infinitely powerful in our choices. It is when we choose to overlook the little choices available to us everyday that we become helpless. They add up, changing the course of the day, and our lives. Will I choose to meet today with gratitude? Will I allow the morning tantrum of a small child to ruin my mood for the entire day? Will I listen to music/talk to a friend/take a lunch break at the park/do anything that I know will improve my mood? Will I choose to stop just for a second and really look at how my actions, words, and choices affect those I care the most about? Will I disappoint another to be true to myself, and thus prove myself trustworthy?

Those were choices he faced everyday, and even in not consciously choosing, he chose one course over the other again and again and again. They just weren’t the choices I would have made, and I couldn’t make them for him. What I could do was make my own choices. To allow my children to be damaged by his words and actions, or to stand up for them. To allow my life and my happiness to continue to be at the mercy of his mercurial emotions, or to risk blowing up my life as I know it for the chance to make a new life and make my own happiness. To stay or to leave. I feel like it took me too long, but I did choose my well being, and that of my children, over him.

I do not intend on sharing the sordid details of his actions with others. It is not their business. From outside, this decision will look incomprehensible, but they have no claim on my reasoning or explanations. I am prepared for their disapproval. I told my mother last week, on Wednesday, what I planned to do on Saturday. I wanted her to watch my children so that we could have some time to talk this through without the children present. She and her husband did not react well. They nearly staged an intervention on Friday. I know they are scared for me and the life I am about to begin. They worry about CJ. They grieve for the family dynamic they are losing. I initially agreed to hear them out, to subject myself to their prying and pleading and fear mongering about being a single mother to special needs children. But their intervention was about them. They wanted to feel like they had done everything in their power to “save” my marriage for their own peace of mind. Her husband has many life experiences, some incredibly similar to my own, but he often thinks his own experience makes him an expert on the experiences of others’. I had flashbacks to the year after my father died; the well intentioned platitudes I received with a stoic exterior, seething interior. I became righteously indignant and angry at their interference now.

When we receive news that rocks our world, we have to be very careful about our response. It can change everything. For example, I sincerely doubt my best friend will ever truly forgive me for the first words out of my mouth when she told me they were trying to get pregnant while we were doing IVF. Our relationship will never be quite the same. Their response to my decision to divorce my husband was not the kind and considered support I needed or had hoped for. So, in the end, I refused. I did not have the mental and emotional capacity to manage their reactions, feelings, and needs in the build up to breaking the news to CJ and in the wake of our conversation. So I wrote them:

 

“I appreciate your constant support of CJ. He needs the help and reassurance. He is a good man, but he has poor coping skills and will not take action to improve them.

The email was poorly timed, considering I just told him last night that my friend was coming to watch the kids on Saturday so that we could talk. I was planning this out so that we would have the time and space to discuss between the two of us, and he would have the day on Sunday to process before he had to return to work. The timing of your email ramped up his paranoia regarding our conversation.

I understand that you and Mom worry for us, and what the outcome of this will be. However, our marriage is not yours to save. It is ours. I have been fighting for him and for us for five years. I did not come to this decision lightly. I promise that I have given him many, many chances to be the partner that I need. I have fought through the anguish of this decision with the support of my therapist and other foster and adoptive parents.

I really hope that he can get the help and support he needs to lead a healthier, happier life. I understand that depression makes us myopic, and consumed with our own needs, but when your partner has little regard for your emotional and mental well-being, at some point you have to start looking towards your own self-preservation. I do not have to live a life confined and defined by his cycles of depression. I love him, but I love my children and myself as well, and I am making the decision to put our well-being first finally. We do not have to destroy ourselves for those we love. I hope that you and mom can continue to support us both as individuals. I do not intend to allow this divorce to become toxic, and I worry about CJ’s lack of support. He has consistently isolated himself for years, so he does not have any friends or hobbies here in the US.

I would prefer if you and mom would not come today. I do not say this in anger, or to deny your support. However, I am remembering the lessons I learned in the aftermath of my father’s death. We all try to be such good little grievers, allowing others to offer the support they think we need because it makes them feel better, and like they have done all they could for us, instead of standing firm and acknowledging what we actually need. I received a lot of counsel in those days that really just made me feel worse, and more confused. It is okay to be selfish in our grief, because, in the end, it is our grief, and how we choose to share it, express it, and be comforted is our choice. Those who give you true support are the ones who ask what you need first, and then give it whether or not it is how they would choose to support you. Because it is not about them.

I have received counsel this time as well, and it was the counsel I needed to feel supported and safe to make the decision that I feel is best. I do not need to defend it, or for others to understand it. I expect that I will receive a lot of disapproval in the near future from friends and family. From the outside, it seems like an inconceivable and selfish decision. However, I know that it is not, and it is not my responsibility or even my right to share the inner workings of my heart or of our marriage and partnership so that others can decide whether I made the right decision. No one is “right” here, and I do not need or want to prove to others that he is “wrong” in order to feel better about this or earn their support.

I appreciate your wisdom and kindness and love for both CJ and I. The support I choose right now, is for you to be emotionally available to CJ and for you both to be willing to consider offering logistical support regarding the kids, depending on how this all develops next week. I hope that is support you are willing to give.”

 

That email was to my mother’s husband, who was pushing for the intervention, but my mother has not contacted me more than once since. I thought we had moved beyond the challenging years after they first met and married, when I vocally disagreed with the way he overrode her, and the way she subdued herself so that he could feel right and knowledgeable. Because subduing herself was easier than challenging him. He has since softened. All of our relationships have shifted and adapted to allow us all to continue as family. However, I am not sure if her reticence is because she does not know what to say or do now, or if she is appeasing him because he is indignant that I refused his intrusion. It is painful that I can not be sure.

 

My Mother’s Generation Doesn’t Have to Understand My Divorce

My Parents Didn’t Support My Divorce