Taking Stock

Ok, I feel better now. My two weeks of self pity are over. I've taken stock and this is my inventory:

• My brains, talent, and health are intact.
• I have a fabulous and supportive family, plus my parents are still alive
  
• Two wonderful 'adopted' boys are living with me - they need me and I need them.
• I've adopted a sweet, loyal, and loving dog.
• My once in a lifetime miracle job keeps me energized, interested, and interesting.
• Good luck comes my way time and again. (A local newspaper wants me to elaborate on an article I wrote for a university publication.)
  
• I have as many friends as I can possibly want.
  

The only missing item is a mate, but at this stage of my life I am not so sure I want one. I've tried dating only to discover that I rather like my independent lifestyle. Besides, it's so exhausting to meet new men.

Next week would have been my 35th wedding anniversary. I realized as I looked at my old wedding pictures with a niece who is getting married this fall that the happiness I felt on my wedding day remains undiminished. When I look at the ecstatic glow on that fresh young face I realized that no one can take away that wonderful memory. Just days after my wedding I moved to a new city, away from family and friends, and it took three years for me to become adjusted to my new situation. But adjust I did, and then happiness came my way again.

It's been almost seven years since my divorce, and the pain of that event keeps receding. Oh, sure I dread being alone in my old age, and I still have spurts of intense anger (witness the previous two posts) but marriage is no guarantee that your spouse will be around, no matter how happily married you are. So I am going to keep taking stock whenever anger robs me of my contentment. When I itemize all that I still have I realize that for the most part life is still good.

• Taking Stock: The Good Happenings, Divorce Support Forums
• Reorient Your Life After Divorce
• Taking Stock of Your Life
  

Divorce Talk With Men of My Acquaintance, Part One

I encountered two men in their late thirties this week, my insurance agent and a former coworker. Both are going through a divorce. Being men, they said little, keeping a stiff upper lip. Still, I commiserated with them, telling them I understood they were not going through an easy time. Hearing my sympathetic comment, my insurance agent opened up. He'd been married 10 years and had two children. He would have tried to make things work, he said, but his wife was done. She didn't want to continue the marriage. He shared joint custody of the kids and he lived for them. At this stage of his separation, all he could think of was them.

My former coworker had been married for only two years. I could tell from his demeanor that he was the one who left. He was embarrassed about his public failure and hadn't told many people. Despite his decision to leave, I imagine it was still a difficult one. Breaking up is never easy, especially after one has declared to the world, "'Till death us do part."

This news about my former coworker resulted in a conversation with my boss, a man who has been divorced for over 35 years. His one and only marriage lasted only a few months. "Unlike other peoples' responses," he said, "I congratulated him and told him I thought he was brave for leaving an impossible situation and for not attempting to fix something that couldn't be fixed."

Good point, I reluctantly thought, recalling all the pain I felt when my husband told me he was leaving. Then my boss continued, saying how he couldn't understand how marriage truly worked. How anyone could worry about another human's welfare in addition to their own. (Obviously he doesn't have children.) It was tough enough, he said, worrying about losing your own job or being able to pay taxes. Having to worry about a spouse as well doubled the pressure. He had no idea why anyone would want to put their faith and trust in another, open a joint checking account, or purchase joint property, etc. He loved living on his own.

"Living the selfish life," I added, "Doing what I want, when I want, and how I want it."

"Precisely," he said, perking up. "It's very satisfying." He then went on to say how it always irked him that society celebrated successful couples. "How about the single individual successfully living alone? Why aren't they rewarded with praise?"

Indeed, why not? I thought, knowing my boss shirked all parties and get-togethers, and spent most of his free time watching baseball with his two dogs and cats. I have no pat answers to this strange discussion. I was simply happy to get as much from this man as I did. In fact, from now on, quite a few of my posts will center around other middle-aged people's thoughts about divorce, marriage, and the single life. So stay tuned. Meanwhile, here are two links for a man going through divorce. No matter what sex you are, the process is tough.

• Divorce: A Man's Survival Guide

• Here's an old interview by Bill Ritter, but current in thought and feeling. Men After Divorce/Walkaway Wives

Part II of this post will describe a conversation with another divorced man. Like Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady, he needs no women to make him happy.

Take baby steps

I was one of the lucky ones. After the divorce, I wound up with the house, acquired a good job, and kept my life largely intact. Even so, those first two years after Bob left were horrendous.

Two years. My mind knew it would take that long to regain my balance, perhaps longer; my heart wished it all away.

During the period of greatest stress I tried not to make too many irrevocable decisions. Friends and family urged me to do all sorts of things. Sell the house and find a small condo, and move to another city, were two of the more constant refrains. I was so stressed that I experienced a phenomenon that I can only describe as a noise in my head. So many fears crowded in on me, that I couldn't think straight.

So if you can possibly stave off making major decisions during this time (besides those pertaining to your divorce and family) then try not to act on them. Hold off moving or purchasing major items. You don't need to pile on more stress or worries, or to wake up from your nightmare and feel buyer's remorse.

Dreams lead the way to recovery

During my divorce I dreamt of my ex all the time. He would scold me, love me, laugh with me, and vacation with me as my subconsious sorted out my emotions and reflected my current situation. Often my dreams allowed me to flee my sadness, but at other times I would wake up sweaty and exhausted from working through my anger and past mistakes.

During the worst period of my divorce I sought refuge in sleep and often slept 8 - 10 hours straight. I dream in colors, and these dreams were vivid and memorable. Their images were often bleak and stark. As I slept, my "work" was at its most intense and I could feel my brain working.

According to Dare to Dream-What Your Dreams Really Mean, the intensity of your dreams reflect your emotional health.

"In a new study of 30 recently divorced adults, Cartwright tracked their dreams over a five-month period, measuring their feelings toward their ex-spouses. She discovered that those who were angriest at the spouse while dreaming had the best chance of successfully coping with divorce. "If their dreams were bland," Cartwright says, "they hadn't started to work through their emotions and deal with the divorce." For therapists, this finding will help determine whether divorced men or women need counseling or have already dreamed their troubles away."

During this period, my dreams exploded with bold colors and symbols. Sometimes I would wake up convinced that my experiences had been real.

With time, my dreams about Bob and our situation lessened. Recently I went on a trip abroad near a region in the far east that Bob and I had visited regularly. Just two nights ago he appeared in my dreams for the first time in over a year, married to his current wife, and totally disinterested in me. I awoke feeling slightly on edge, as if we'd had an argument.

As I shrugged off the dream, which was full of imagery of my rejuvenation, I realized that I'd moved on. I've made new memories and am experiencing a life that is rich and fulfilling without him. Where once he took center stage, he plays a vague and distant part in my dreams. In fact, I used to sleep badly, but these days I sleep well, dreaming healing dreams and waking up refreshed and eager to start a new day.