Fighting while grieving
I’ve never yet had a client or a personal friend tell me they actually loved the fighting part of divorce. Even these days – incredible as they are – that would be a bit much.
But I have to say, I’m really worried about the turn things have taken around the way we talk about – and ultimately feel – about the loss of a marriage. It’s one thing for it not to be a stigmatized disgrace that can only be talked about privately, in hushed tones. It’s another entirely for the latest episode to be broadcast, with gory details, to anyone within earshot.
I was musing with a friend the other day about one particular “message” coming toward us about success, happiness, and how to live, we hear all the time: “live with passion.” Sometimes I think I know what that means, and if we’re talking about caring deeply about something important, learning everything you can about it, sharing it with others, and benefiting from the enriched experience – that sounds pretty good to me.
But for some, “live with passion” adds up to “live without thinking” – a kind of permission to be uninhibited, unfiltered about expressing feelings. I feel it, so I say it – or do it.
Regarding divorce, the task used to be clear: you must grieve the loss of the marriage – the one imagined on your wedding day – while simultaneously negotiating for a fair share of parenting responsibilities, community property, and the dignity we deserve.
That’s hard under the best of circumstances – and even harder when you also have to earn a living, manage a household, be a citizen, and try to have a life.
Which gets back to “living with passion.” Bringing passion to your divorce can be THE all time mistake. It used to be that everyone also got this message: manage your feelings on crucial matters with longlasting consequences, or else you’re not a credible adult, not worthy of respect. In other words: “don’t be a jerk.” That wasn’t seen as oppressive, or squashing personal freedom. That’s time-tested social wisdom – especially since one of the key parenting tasks is to convey to the children witnessing the process that everything’s going to be OK.
At this point many nod in agreement, but then say, in essence, “I fight better when I’m angry, not when I’m sad.”
Which means the fight with the ex is what’s most real, and it’s the trumping, pragmatic motivation to be in combat mode. It enhances the likelihood of “success” in a struggle that may take months, or even years to play out.
The problem, of course, is that it’s not just the wrong state of mind to be in for raising children, it’s disastrous for living any kind of good life.
Which is why successfully coaching someone through a divorce hinges on whether they finally agree that managing their anger is a crucial goal. – and that, far from costing or weakening them in their battle with the ex, it will strengthen them. It clarifies what’s really important. And it positions them for the more important tasks: to grieve the loss of a deep emotional investment, and to keep moving forward, children clinging, on the only journey that matters.
Oh, THAT conversation
But my wife told me that when she originally saw the title she thought it referred to that first conversation between couples when the unhappiness threshold is broached out loud, and it’s finally in the open that the marriage might not last forever.
I chuckled at the shift in perspective, but I didn’t have much to say about that first divorce conversation. A few times, I’ve coached the ones who were initiating their divorce to be kind, respectful, not let the conversation wander into the same old grievances, or get out of hand. Not particularly innovative or creative on my part. There’s no script. More often, I’ve been with clients right after the conversation has happened – devastated, outraged, panicked, but sometimes eerily calm.
I remember a client filling up with tears, out of the blue, when recalling the conversation “many years ago” initiated by his wife that put his marriage officially on the divorce track. He said, “Right after it happened, I told everyone I was totally shocked, never saw it coming, couldn’t really understand why she was doing it. But I was lying to myself – more than to anyone else. I didn’t let myself see – didn’t want to see - how unhappy she was. I’d been on my own roll, and I was too selfish, too immature, and too frightened to deal with it.”
Even my veteran status doesn’t diminish my continual amazement at the power of selective attention to cause an intelligent person to not see what’s at stake – in this case the man’s marriage and family – until it’s much too late.
Disappointed in Love
I hadn’t heard that phrase in awhile.
Such an understated, gentle way of putting it.
It was said by a very lively 93-year-old guy from somewhere around Lake Sunapee being interviewed in an old Yankee Magazine about his still-successful tool sharpening business. He was responding to a question about his early life, and it was about all he had to say regarding his encounters with the opposite sex.
I have to admit, working with as many divorces as I have has seldom caused me to say “disappointed in love” when describing my clients’ states of mind.
Devastated, crushed, enraged, panicked, exhilarated, desolate, anxiety-laden, depressed, bitter, disassociating, delusional – that’s more what I’ve seen in this day and age.
It’s also true that many can appear, from the outside, to be carrying on pretty well. I remember I was pretty stoic to the visible eye.
Divorce rips a hole in our universe. Our sense of ourselves moving through time and space is altered.
I actually admire that “old school” reticence.
I go in and out on what I truly think about whether “culture” succeeds, or makes things worse, when it strongly shapes the way people are supposed to feel - and express those feelings – about something as elemental as male-female relationships.
It came out later in an “aside” by the interviewer that the elderly gentleman’s attempt to have a family in his mid-30’s had resulted in admission to “a mental ward” and a stint in prison.
Lasting human relationships have never been easy.
Kids, Divorce, and Counseling, Pt. 2
Does your child have a label?
I’m talking about a mental health diagnosis, a medical condition requiring “accommodation,” or an identified “learning” problem requiring special education services.
If so, how’s that working out?
I should say right off that I’m not one of those “contrarians” who thinks those labels are totally bogus and accuses the various professionals of using them to provide jobs for themselves.
You’d be a tad right to detect a bit of world-weary skepticism on my part, but I need to be clear: my beef is mostly with parents.
Many parents are not collaborating with the “team,” or monitoring what’s going on, the way they should be, and even though going through a divorce and being a single parent makes it much harder – it’s still what needs to be done.
Yes, I do have concerns about kids and medications, and I’ve written elsewhere about some of my problems with Special Education.
I’m thinking especially of those initial meetings where the Individualized Education Plan (IEP) for a Special Ed student are created, which too often become an exercise in managing the words used to define and then address a “problem” – the real focus fixed firmly on legal obligations and the available staffing of the Special Ed Department.
But divorce, as monumental as it is, exacerbates the “disconnect” between families and the Special Ed team far more than it should. It should be the other way – the reason to connect even more frequently than ever.
The truth is most professionals are trained to respond to news of divorce promptly, constructively, and compassionately – and are very tuned in to the ways the distress may effect your child
It’s usually parents who don’t stay on top of the basics.
So, again: counseling can be helpful, or it can be a total waste of money.
Participate, cooperate, collaborate but, – above all – notice! Pay attention to what’s going on.
Professional help is good, but it’s not magic.
Kids need their parents to stick with them – and not let divorce make them crazy. It’s parents and consistent, active parenting that kids need most – not professionals.
Children would trade professional “services” for solid parenting in a heartbeat.
Blame vs. Learning
Who’s to blame for your divorce?
Awhile back, I was posting on a divorce forum I’d run across, and it didn’t go well. My three little paragraphs about “learning” went over like a lead balloon.
The gist of what came back at me was: it sounds like “blaming” when that’s the last thing someone going through divorce needs. They need comfort, support, and ideas for moving forward.
They’re absolutely right.
When a divorce breaks open it’s cataclysmic and disorienting – a fundamentally emotional experience.
It was true for mine, and virtually every divorce story I’ve ever heard – personal or professional.
At first, it’s “all hands on deck” time: connect with family and friends, make the living arrangements, secure the finances – stabilize.
Because divorce happens in the middle of life itself, it’s immersed in all that real world, here and now “doing.”
Pesky little things like parenting and earning a living spring to mind right away, not to mention small items like maintaining the home, time commitments associated with career, community involvement, extended family obligations, etc. The whole package of “things” and “tasks” connected to being a family – living under one roof, with that spouse, and those children – needs to be parceled out, maintained, negotiated, arranged for, and/or left behind forever.
Too often, I’m afraid, the all-too-real circumstances of divorce in our modern world end up being “managed” as just another “chapter” in someone’s personal drama – with the net effect that really comprehending what happened never has a chance.
How someone conducts him or herself in a marriage – even if it’s exemplary – is filled with lessons and truths that need to “register” if they’re going to make a difference in the future.
Recognizing and owning the part your feelings and behavior played in a complex dynamic like marriage takes honesty and courage.
That’s not blame, it’s learning.
PAS – the Opposite of the High Road
Do you know what PAS is?
I’ve witnessed the behavior many times over the years, but I’ll admit I dropped my head and anguished for a few seconds when I learned that it’s become an official syndrome – Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS).
PAS is the systematic denigration of one parent by the other with the intent of alienating the child against the other parent. Mostly it’s done to gain or retain custody by one of the parents – and the literature is saying it occurs most often where the mother has custody, and doesn’t wish to be dealing with her ex.
The point is that it’s so common and widespread that divorce lawyers and mental health professionals routinely refer to “PAS” as they manage their cases.
I have many problems with “Mens’ Rights” advocates who pretend too often that many of the laws regarding custody and parental obligation don’t reflect a longstanding reality about male behavior, but I’m also very discouraged that so many women resort to unconscionable tactics to keep their ex out of their children’s lives. (I address a more common scenario here.)
It isn’t just how selfish it is, it’s imagining the vulnerable, impressionable kids being subjected to a campaign of deception and lies by their primary caregiver and life teacher – obsessed and consumed by their rage.
It’s depressing – and terrifying.
The Parent Trap
ASK SHAUN:
I’ve been separated for almost a year now, and I know I’d have been in big trouble if it weren’t for my mother and her husband being there for me, and taking care of my son when I go to work.
I know they adore their grandson, but I grit my teeth a lot around how much they correct him, at age 5, even with me right there. Ironically, my mother’s the strict one, and corrects more often than my stepfather. He’s more low-key, but supports her totally.
When I try to talk about it with them they get defensive, and criticize me – even to where it feels like they’re saying I’m not being a good mother.
It’s gotten pretty heated sometimes, and I haven’t always been that nice with some of the things I’ve said back to them.
They mean well, but I just don’t see everything their way.
I still need them a lot, though, because paying for childcare would just keep me in the hole I’m already in.
Plus, of course I prefer that my son be cared for by people who love him.
Thanks,
Marsha
This is an all-too-common situation , Marsha, but let me also say right away: thank God for families – unpleasant squabbles and all. You’re totally right to prefer that your son be cared for by family members who love him.
So a quick tip: I hope it’s not too hard for you, despite how intense it can get when the words fly, to find ways to tell your mother and your stepfather how much you appreciate what they’re doing for you and your boy.
It’s important because a) you should be appreciative, and b) a state of “gratitude” is a generally “elevated” state to be in, and c) pragmatically there are just fewer hassles when you convey appreciation to those being helpful.
What gets entwined here, almost to the point where it can’t be sorted out, is how much of this is a genuine disagreement around parenting philosophy, and/or how much of it has to do with their irritation – with you and the overall situation – their exhaustion, and the simple ups and downs that go with adjusting to the “disruption” of their regular living patterns.
Now. Parents from the “old school” are fairly relentless on things like basic “do’s and don’ts,” house rules, and manners. They don’t think they’re harming anyone. That’s a contrast with the postmodern approach to parenting that seems – simultaneously – more laissez-faire, but also extremely “prickly” when it comes to “who gets to correct my child?”
It feels like, these days, it can only be Mom, and if she doesn’t feel it’s necessary – it doesn’t happen.
Ironically, it used to be that one of the gifts of grandparenthood was being able to enjoy and indulge the grandchildren, completely free of unpleasant discipline tasks, since they, and all the rest of it, were in the parents’ capable hands.
That’s been turned on its head these days, and a lot of heroic grandparents have plugged in to provide the only rudimentary parenting their grandchildren will ever come to know.
Obviously, that’s not what’s going on in your situation, so I’d just like to make the simple case that a disagreement over parental philosophy is the better kind of problem to have.
In general, under their roof, you mostly want to sign onto the house rules, and therefore it boils down to what it takes to get compliance.
When you give your point of view, be sure to validate your mother’s concerns. Don’t dismiss them. But validate doesn’t necessarily mean agree. Your goal is to figure out how a situation can be “managed,” if not solved. Usually taking the problem up in the right spirit generates good solutions, and takes the starch out of free floating negativity.
But, finally, here’s the thing. Unless I planted a camera inside the home, I’d have no way of perceiving what you’re actually like to live with these days.
Divorce is such a blow. You may not realize how much you’re still reeling. You could be “fine,” but it’s more probable that you’re not there yet.
The degree to which you’re showing energy for, and engagement in, parenting your child, as opposed to the extent you’re depressed, passive, overwhelmed etc. may be what your parents are reacting to.
It’s incredibly hard to pretend you’re happy if you’re really not. But your son needs you to try.
The material stuff matters a little, but the emotional stuff is the ballgame. Remind each other you’re all extremely fortunate to be together, sharing, and taking delight in your son.
Gerry’s Slog Toward the High Road, Pt. 3
My conditions for working with Gerry were a) a complete medical checkup b) no drinking, plus 3 AA meetings a week, and c) occasional feedback from his ex-wife confirming Gerry’s basic compliance.
The checkup revealed some high blood pressure, but was otherwise “pretty good.” Gerry kept telling me he was “sure” he wasn’t an alcoholic, and I should probably say that I’ve come around to that view. He was self-medicating, but once it became a focus – and a condition for returning home – he easily gave it up. No slips.
You probably noticed it was Gerry’s now “ex” wife who made the call. She’d found her own support somewhere – probably at Al-Anon – which then had given her the “backbone to take a stand.”
But that big personality that was so central to Gerry’s undoing was missed at home by their four children – in fact they were endlessly calling out for him.
So, despite the hard line she took to get him out of the house and get the divorce process going, she relented – a little.
To cut to the chase, my task was to help Gerry stop making his family pay the price for how hard it was pretending to be a prince among men. The nonsense had to stop.
It took awhile. Gerry was an extremely exasperating, but ultimately decent, guy who claimed he realized how much he needed his family – and was finally willing to make some changes.
The reason Gerry’s story works here is because – to make a long story short – Gerry finally “got” the connection between his actual behavior and the consequences. It wasn’t quite like Scrooge waking up on Christmas morning, but Gerry was relieved and grateful that he hadn’t completely blown it.
An unusual divorce “story.” Maybe his ex still really loves Gerry. Maybe.
Maybe Gerry is a very lucky man.
Feeling your divorce
Not everyone who goes through a divorce needs psychotherapy. That’s especially true these days, because you’re really supposed to have a diagnosable condition exhibiting “symptoms” that require “medical” treatment – “psychotherapy”- provided by a duly credentialled professional, requiring a 5 digit code so that health insurance will reimburse.
But you probably ought to be talking to someone regularly as you make your way through your divorce. I’ll forego my rant about the “medical model”, because, for our purposes, it’s important to say that, painful as it can be, divorce is also a fantastic opportunity to come to terms with how you’ve lived your life so far – the extent to which you see yourself, and life, with clarity – or through a silk stocking.
That’s why, when I first start talking to someone about the divorce, it’s usually a good sign when emotions are bubbling at the surface. We don’t have to wade through layers of avoidance, distortion, and denial.
It’s the obvious truth. Life is way more about feelings than thoughts – yet humans, in order to function, MUST manage feelings. Truth is, that sits more easily on some than others, requires less intensity, less denial. We’re all extremely invested, and emotionally loyal, to a “script” for ourselves, and sometimes we’re unreasonably demanding of the character we play in our own script – to the point of not allowing ourselves to even know how hurt and frightened we are when that script changes.
The point is that divorce is an obvious, crucial moment when things open up, the world isn’t what it was, and if ever there was a time for a focused, emotionally honest conversation – this is it. Coming out of it with hard earned lessons to hold on to can redeem what, for most people, is their worst experience in life so far.
Those first few days
Divorces are often “sprung” on one of the spouses, and very often the one doing the “springing” has moved way ahead of the other when it comes to things like child custody, primary residence, lawyers, bank accounts, and “who gets what.” And, of course, sometimes there’s another person waiting in the wings.
Ideally, divorce is something you see coming a long way off. That allows you to prepare yourself and the children emotionally, while you systematically make your way through that almost endless “to do” list.
Ideally.
It’s very poignant to be asked for help by someone who’s basically still in shock. They have to operate on two tracks. They now have to “catch up” and respond, agree, or challenge the rapidly developing situation on the ground, while simultaneously coping with the implosion of their inner life.
That’s why one of my first tasks is to establish if there’s something pressing down right away – in the next few days, or so – that needs to be talked about and thought through. It might be work-related – a project deadline, an interview, a key decision. It might be about one of the kids – a school consultation, a behavior problem needing attention. Or, it may even be to find a new place to live.
The first few days are like walking underwater – you may well wish you could lie in bed with the covers over your head, but the world (and especially the kids) still expect you to function and perform.
The point is that, yes, the “story” of your marriage does need to be talked about, finally, if you’re going to make sense of it, learn, and even make it into something better. That means therapy, counseling, or coaching at some point.
In the mean time, though, you need to function adequately at work, manage your obligations, break the news to your family and friends, and all the while, your kids are watching you like a hawk. They need you to not buckle.
The first few days, if handled well, can go a long way toward minimizing the overall damage. If both sides “jump ugly” – hire shark lawyers, try to get the kids to take their side, make moves on community property, or scream at each other – the bad taste can last, not just years, but forever.
Helping people put one foot in front of the other, early – while they handle the tasks immediately on their plate – is much better than getting too deep, too soon on the “meaning” of the divorce. Healing will come in its time.
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