It's More Than Merely Coping; It's About Accepting Your New Life

It happened again yesterday: Bob was on my mind throughout the day. I had sent a college friend a happy birthday email, and he casually replied that the reunion weekend was coming up and that he hadn't heard yet if Bob was coming.

Heart pang. I loved going to campus with my husband during the spring to watch lacrosse, and meet up with the old gang. Oh, sure everyone was getting grayer, last time I went, but there was the comfort of seeing old friends, their wives and their families, and talking about the good old days. I attended a woman's college and met Bob at an all-male school, and these reunions are on his campus. The last time I went to an alumni reunion, only one of our group was divorced and remarried. This time around, three of them will be bringing new spouses, none of whom have the history that the old wives had. In my case, I have known the guys since I was 19 years old when they lived in the fraternity and looked younger than their sons. I knew all of the old stories and then some. I wonder if I will ever see this group again? While Bob and his new spouse are invited to their children's weddings, I no longer receive even a Christmas card, except from a few.

When I divorced, my mourning extended farther than simply losing my husband, I lost many of our friends and his family, which was unforeseen, and I lost all those rituals that I so adored: these reunion trips, vacations with couples, tennis night out, etc. This is the toughest part about moving on: the landscape of your life changes radically after the loss of a spouse. At first you are lost, and reel from place to place, clueless as to which way you should go. Slowly, you start to regain some sense of direction.

Oh, I've regrouped and formed a new life. In talking to other women in my situation, I realize how lucky I am. One woman, who has been single as long as me, has yet to bond with a close group of women her age. Although she works, she feels lonely and isolated. She told me that if it weren't for her teenage daughter, she would have no social life, and then she asked me, with a hint of envy, how I had been able to move on.

Being an extrovert helps, I replied. I didn't add how much hard work it had been to fight off depression, or how much of a sea change my own attitude and emotions had gone through, so that I was able to embrace and recognize all the good things going on in my life. Tonight I will go to a restaurant with a group of single friends after work to decompress; on Saturday I will visit a friend who is recovering from knee surgery; and on Sunday I will visit a friend's house to pick out some clothes (she sells the Doncaster line on the side). We will chat, discuss clothes and Jane Austen, joke and giggle, and drink wine. Last Sunday, three of us went to a movie. So, although there is no man lurking in my dating horizon, I lead a full and active social life.

The toughest part about being suddenly single, when every cell in your body craves a mate, is to embrace your new life. Letting go of my preconceptions (divorce is bad, I was a lousy wife, single women are losers in the game of love), and enjoy each day for what it offers. It's hard, I know. I still have setbacks, like I had yesterday, when the old yearning and wishful thinking takes over. I was melancholy all day long, but that is part of my new landscape - recognizing that this yearning for a lost past will always be with me.

As you find your way in your own new landscape, take heart. You have it within you to find your new direction. Carving that new path takes hard work, however, and time, but with patience and the help of friends and family, you will find your way out of your heart ache. Just follow your instincts, and keep moving. For your own emotional health, you simply can't stay where you've been.

• Ways to Move on After Divorce

• Moving On After Divorce: Women's Divorce
  

"I'm Sorry" is not worth dying for

A colleague died a month ago in front of her ex-husband. Since their divorce three years ago, they had been playing a co-dependent game: he as baiter, she as baitee. Her friends told her to move on with her life. We cautioned her that John, an S.O.B. if ever there was one, would never admit he was wrong or say he was sorry. We also told her he wouldn't come back to her... especially not after he made love to and married the young woman she'd taken in like a daughter.

Marianne just couldn't let go. She had moved out of the house when she first learned of the affair between Melissa and John, leaving behind their two dogs and all her possessions except for a few suitcases filled with clothes and toiletries.

Over the next months she'd return to play with the dogs, and pick up more items. The following morning at work, she would be devastated. For the first few months, we supported her, listening to her tales of woe, and advising her on the best course of action.

But Marianne's need to see John and make him admit he was wrong, see the error of his ways, or feel sorry for her was greater than our sound advice. She began to develop a jaw ache that wouldn't go away, and that turned out to be an arthritic joint. Her sleep was off, and her back hurt all the time. Migraine headaches would immobilize her. Towards the end of her short life (she was 48 when she died) she was taking so many pills that she lost count. Her blood pressure was low, and she would come to work with bruises. "Oh, I fainted," she'd say lightly, but we cautioned her to see a doctor and reduce her medications. To us the fainting spells were worrisome.

Marianne knew how we felt about John, so she failed to tell us that she had made up with him and Melissa, and that the three of them were palling around. They had watched the superbowl together at John's house, and Marianne would frequently babysit the dogs when John and his child bride went on vacation. Had I known of this, I would have organized an intervention. There was something terribly unhealthy about the whole set up. John was a manipulative bastard, and anyone with a thimble full of sense could see right through his bluster. But not Marianne.

Marianne's last day of work was splendid. She attended a day-long meeting in which her contributions were creative and valued. She seemed to be in a good mood. When people said "Have a good weekend," they had no idea that it would be the last time they would see her.

Some time that night she drove to John's house and collapsed from an overdose of drugs. When I heard the news, I immediately knew that she didn't mean to kill herself. All of us who were close to the situation intuitively felt that John said or did something to trigger a response in her. My sense is that she went to him to be "rescued." But she miscalculated. Either she took more drugs than was wise, or she had counted on a faster response from John or the ambulance.

The fact that she didn't leave provisions or instructions for her beloved dog was an indication that she didn't mean to commit suicide, or that she had acted on the spur of the moment. That little pooch meant everything to her, and she had left her apartment with the lights blazing and the dog all alone. It would have taken her 20 minutes to drive to John's, so the drugs had a while to take effect.

It's been a month since Marianne was cremated. A new person sits at her desk doing her work. Her dog is with a new owner. Her furniture was donated to a poor single mother, and her clothes were shipped off to Good Will. John is still married to his Tootsie, and he's still an S.O.B.

For the rest of us, life has gone on, except for poor Marianne, who couldn't - wouldn't - let go of her hurt and anger. Nothing we said worked (seek counseling, stop seeing him, do something nice for yourself, help others.) In the end John didn't say the words Marianne wanted to hear, and I'm not sure they would have satisfied her even if she'd heard them. And, so, she gambled and lost everything that mattered.

If you are having difficulty letting go of your anger toward your ex spouse, seek help. Your friends are there to help you, but if your anger has taken over your life and your common sense, you probably need an expert's advice. I wish I'd been able to give Marianne the kind of advice she was willing to hear. To my way of thinking, wishing to hear 'I'm sorry' is not worth dying for.

• Depression in Codependent Relationships
• Codependents: Symptoms
• Are You or Your Partner Addicted to Drama?
  

Signs of Depression

As I drove into the driveway I knew something was amiss. The lawn had not been mown. A tree lay on its side, broken in half and blocking half the side yard. Dead shrubs, overgrown bushes, an unswept walkway and porch, and mold growing on the wood siding told me that maintaining the house had grown beyond my friend's control.

As I entered the house and the dog greeted me, I noted that all the doors to the living areas were closed. I entered the kitchen and saw dark spots splattered on the floor. The dog was in heat and my friend had not bothered to clean up the evidence. Dust lay thick on the kitchen counters. Wallpaper that the dog had torn of the walls lay in strips; Christmas decorations were still evident in July. As my friend answered the phone, I walked onto the deck. The chairs were dirty, the hot tub was empty, and an awning was ripped and faded.

I was reminded of Miss Havinsham's rotting wedding banquet. The jilted bride was unable to move on in her life. My dear friend, I realized, was as depressed as this character. He had 'disappeared' a few months ago. His emails had stopped suddenly, and all I could get out of him was that he was busy.

Single, divorced, a caretaker of his aged father, worried about the fluctuating stock market, getting his oldest child ready for college, and struggling to maintain his lifestyle while living in a house much too large for him, I finally saw with my own eyes how far life's events had spun out of his control. Seeing his house made me realize how far into depression he'd sunk.

I have a few occasional days like that. At times life seems overwhelming and all I want to do is sleep. In a blink of an eye my house will start to reflect my state of mind, with dishes lingering in the sink, my bed remaining unmade, and my grass growing too tall. Sometimes it is a struggle to remain happy and sane, especially when funds are tight and the old house needs lots of TLC. In addition, I loved being married. I loved coming home to my mate and sharing my day with him.These days my house is eerily silent.

So, yeah, at times I can relate to my male friend. Seeing his house made me feel strangely better. I'd been hurt because I hadn't heard from him in a while. When I saw his house I knew he meant what he said: he was busy, busy, busy. Knowing him, he'll snap out of this stage soon. At least, I hope so. All I can do is be there for him and support him whenever he needs me, and to keep a careful eye on him.

Links About Depression and Divorce

Men more prone to depression after divorce

After Divorce, Men Are Twice More Likely to Experience Depression

Overcoming Depression After Divorce

Divorce Recovery

On the right track...?

Here are my results to the quiz: Are you depressed?

Your Depression Level: 16%

You aren't depressed, and you probably already knew that. Like everyone else, you have ups and downs. But unlike most people, you've mastered keeping your mood stable.

Are You Depressed?

Seems like a great result, right? At first I crowed at receiving confirmation that I was emotionally healthy (and I think I am.) However, for some reason I decided to test this quiz and took it three more times. Each time I chose worse and worse answers, and each time I received the same reply: "You aren't depressed, and you probably already knew that..."

Out of curiosity, here are a few statements I began to mark:

* You have been preoccupied with death, dying, or suicide.
* You feel like no one likes you anymore.
* You feel like you have nothing to live for.
* You feel more dead than alive.

And this is the worst result I got:



Is this free quiz harmless? I think not. Imagine if an actual depressed person took it and believed the erroneous result. He or she might stop seeing their counselor or taking their pills.

What a horrifying thought.

Facing your fears

Divorce is one of the highest stress-related events a person can go through. Only the death of a spouse or child rank higher. Having experienced extreme loss only a few times in my life, I didn’t know what to think of the physical pain that gripped my chest, my shortness of breath when I walked my dog, my inability to think clearly when someone talked too fast or too loud, and the metallic taste in my mouth.

I also suffered from what I can only describe as a noise in my head, which were my fears crowding in on me. Fear of being alone. Fear of not finding a job. Fear of the unknown. Fear of growing old without my husband. Fear of divorce. Fear of lawyers. Fear of being considered a failure.

There were so many worries crowding out all good and rational thinking, that simply fighting off my negative thoughts took all my energy. People were so full of advice, some good and some awful. The noise in my head (my fears) drowned out their words. I literally lived one minute at a time, waiting for the day to end so that I could find relief in sleep.

So, was my reaction normal? Having spoken to others in my situation, yes. That acute physical pain is real. The fears are normal. You just have to ride through this intense grieving period and concentrate only on the things you can control. Every time I took a positive step forward (like finding a job), the noise in my head lessened. We each react to stress differently. In my case, it took eight months before my head cleared again. It had taken that long to sort out my fears and confront them.

Surviving the Holidays

There's no way to get around it: Cheer and glad tidings surround you during the holidays, but chances are you don't feel very festive. In fact, you probably feel more alone than ever, especially if you find yourself at a party surrounded by couples. How can you possibly get through this period with your sanity intact and without getting even more depressed? I'm no expert, but these steps worked for me:

Do something totally different your first holiday alone. If you've never traveled at Christmas before, travel. Whatever you do, don't try to revive your old holiday traditions. You'll just be setting yourself up for heartache.

Do something for others. I immersed myself in charity work, filling stockings for salvation army children, knitting caps for chemo patients, and even looking into working at a soup kitchen. The extra benefit in doing such work is that you meet new people. You are also empowering yourself to get up and do something, and not passively waiting for things to happen to you.

If you get along with your family, spend the holidays with them. If you don't get along with your family, spend the holidays with a good friend. You need to be surrounded by people who care for you, won't pressure you or rag on you, and who are willing to listen when you need to talk.

Don't spend New Year's Eve in a large crowd with strangers or with a group of couples who have invited you as a tag along. There is no sadder feeling than to be alone among strangers when you are feeling so raw, or to be reminded in a group of couples that you are the lone single person. That first year find a cozier, more intimate situation. Or arrange to do something that you truly love to do, like skiing or hiking or watching old movies.

Control your weight and maintain an exercise regimen. Easier said than done, I know, but there's no headier feeling than feeling strong and fit. If you begin to eat all those Christmas sweets and goodies that people give you, you'll soon start to feel sluggish and even more depressed. This is the one area in your life where you can maintain some control. Just don't overdo it. Exercise moderation in all things, including alcohol.

Seek out an old friend at the start of the new year and begin an email relationship. I emailed a man I had met in New Zealand and wished him Happy New Year. We reestablished a connection (he was a friend of a friend), and we began to email each other daily. It was so nice to see his greeting in my inbox every morning. Our relationship went nowhere, but his male attentions stroked my ego during a fragile time in my life, and this boost acted like a tonic. This relationship had repercussions down the road, though. So be careful how you maintain your friendships with the opposite sex. (More on this subject later.)

If you are depressed to the point of inertia, click on this link. There are some excellent points of advice you can follow. Click here.

Depression

Depression can take so many forms after your mate leaves. In my case I slept and stopped eating.

Let me explain. I've been an insomniac all my life. The first night after Bob told me he was leaving, I slept like a baby. I went to bed at 10:00 p.m. and did not wake up until 8:00 a.m. the following morning. I'd slept a solid 10 hours! And this occured every night.

However, food tasted metallic. I could not eat. And within six months I'd lost 25 lbs. and about 4 dress sizes. Everyone told me how great I looked, but I felt like shit. I felt rejected and lost and rudderless. I had no guidelines and didn't have a clue on how to behave. Just be aware that depression takes on many shapes. The blanket of deep sleep is one of them.

Not eating is another. (Whereas some will seek solace in food.) Just keep on nurturing yourself the best way you know how. Don't play the blame game. You'll hear enough blame from the spouse who is leaving, so be your own best friend. I know. Easier said than done.