We’re a breath away from a New Year; one hour and 57 minutes of breathing to be exact. But who’s counting? As I take stock of the year that’s taking its final bow, I have to say that I have come a long way in the healing post-divorce process. At times I still got caught up in the recriminations and resentments that are part and parcel of that process, and although they’ve lingered longer than I would have liked, I’m ready to see them exit the building. It’s been a bit like watching a sunset as you drive East through two time zones: you know it will set eventually but it just seems to go on and on and on. And when you finally get to the place where the sun dips behind the horizon, you know a cycle has been completed and you can breathe a sigh of relief.
I watch way too many romantic comedies. But I love them. The boy always gets the girl, the dialogue is deeply heartfelt and letter perfect, and everyone lives in great apartments they obviously can’t afford.
I wish I could stop watching them but I can’t. I think I might have a problem. There is no 12 step program for this, I’ve checked. But if there were, I’d qualify by saying “Hi. My name is Rachel and I’m a romantic comedy addict. I am powerless over the belief that Prince Charming is on his way and probably just got held up in traffic”.
Predictably, I cry at the end of every one of these movies because love has won the day like it’s friggin’ supposed to and that really chokes me up. But as happy and gratified as I am for the fictional characters I have grown to understand and love, in under two hours, the tears I shed are more a product of self pity than altruistic joy. Why, oh why, I ask the universe, isn’t that me falling in love with an irascible yet genuinely adorable man with perpetual five-o’clock shadow and a strong-yet-tender heart? When oh when will my prince come to call?
Week 4 - A little crying. A lot of anger. Onset of loneliness.
Rinse. Repeat. That's pretty how much it went down for me. It wasn't fun at all. And it lasted for 6 months.
Part of surviving the loneliness associated with divorce is plain old endurance — realizing that this is a stage which will help. Even in the midst of it all, you need to remember that there will come a day when this overwhelming grief, anger, loneliness, and all the rest will go away.
If you are getting divorced, you may want to plan a party to celebrate. After all, your girlfriends absolutely deserve to have some fun after the enormous amount of time and advice they’ve no doubt invested on your behalf. And besides, you too deserve to have a little fun, when all is said and done. The details of your party — such as whom to invite, where and when to have it, and what to serve — will largely depend on the type of divorce you’re planning.
For instance, if yours is going to be a quickie divorce, taking place in a sunny, foreign locale, there will be logistics to consider i.e.: travel, hotel and ground transportation, and of course knowing the proper legal protocol to follow and the location of a courthouse. If you’re going to stay a few days and work on your tan, you’ll need to pack a bag, making sure to remember the sunscreen, a trashy romance novel and the necessary paperwork.
Ex Number Two had been causing me some definite grief. But like the sun rises in the east, he makes a sudden mental shift and it's all coming up roses again.
I knew it would; he cycles through his pattern faster than my washing machine cycles through a heavy load.
His lows remind me every time why I left him. I feel nothing. The abusive behavior comes back, the mind f**k returns and I feel like I've been tossed five years back into a quagmire of mental hell - and I don't even live with him.
But when that cycle spins around, ooooh...
I had been having a bad time during the March break. Both kids had been at home for the week. The teen slept until 2 p.m. every day and didn't want to participate in activities. The toddler screamed and bounced off walls begging for an energy release.
I watched my workload pile up with no chance to dig in and earn some money. Fine, I thought. This is my chance for some forced vacation. We'll go to a museum. In the city. Two hours away. In winter.
Here they come. The Holidays. They start innocently enough with Halloween, mere child’s play, and then like an unstoppable string of cars rear-ending each other, it’s all downhill from there. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years Eve, New Years Day and Valentine’s Day; I’ll be spending each one of them as a single woman for the first time in 12 years and it’s a frightening prospect, even though nothing could be as frightening as the final holiday season of my marriage.
You can divide the possessions, acquired over a lifetime together, share custody of the dogs (or children if you have them) and decide who will keep the house. But in the end, who gets custody of the friends when you get divorced? Unlike the coffee table and your wedding china, your friends have this thing called free will and it’s no picnic deciding who will get to keep them. Really, it’s their decision; you can’t very well saw them in half or bargain for them; unfortunately it just doesn’t work like that.
