Creating Your Own Supportive Environment

This article in the blog, Creating Passionate Users, articulates what I've suspected for a long time: Angry Negative People Can Be Bad for Your Brain

The summer before my marriage fell apart, my ex and I were eating breakfast at an outdoor restaurant. At the table next to us were three people: two women and a man. One of the women spoke in a loud voice. We couldn't help but over hear her. She spoke at length about her rotten ex husband, the state of her divorce, the negative experiences with lawyers, custody battles, self esteem issues, and other matters strangers had no business hearing. She was so angry, she didn't care. Her two companions listened in silence, nodding, and eating their breakfasts. They looked sad and trapped.

After we paid for our meal, I commented to my ex, "She's been divorced for two years, but she's still living it like it happened today." Her anger was so palpable, it had put a pall over several breakfasts in that room.

In another incident, a former coworker would talk to me during breaks about her divorce and her cad husband and his remarriage. I listened sympathetically, asking a few leading questions and feeling so sorry for her. Her pain was real, and she would often burst into tears. After a few conversations, I ventured to ask, "When did you divorce?" She answered, "Twelve years ago."

I was stunned. Needless to say, I stopped enabling her. But the experience made me wonder: Why do people insist on clinging to such enormous pain, hurt, and anger for so long? Don't they realize that these dark emotions, if pursued for too long, drive others away? And that clinging to your anger affects your health and overall outlook on life?

I swore after these two incidences that I would strive hard to put my anger at anything - including my ex - aside. Has it been easy to follow my own dictum? It's been extremely hard at times, but I strive as well as I can to stay out of harm's way. I do not surround myself with perpetual victims and angry folks, and in my leisure time, I actively seek out laughter and fun.

I work hard at creating my own supportive environment of positive people, maintaining a positive outlook, and pursuing healthy outlets and activities outside of work. Am I always successful at it? Of course not. It's a process and I'm learning as I go. I do adhere to a set of standards. Let me explain.

There's a wonderful blog out in the blogosphere about divorce, but I don't have it listed in my blog roll. Despite all the good advice, humor, and interesting thoughts, the author keeps referring to her ex as an "idiot." Yet he is the father of her children! As a child of divorce, this casual use of the term doesn't sit well with me.

Suppose her children read her blog? Would they then think of themselves as the kids of an idiot? What an awful thought. Or perhaps she doesn't care that her children know. That would be even sadder. Divorce is tough enough on kids without their parents engaging in self-defeating name calling. And what is the point other than to dehumanize the other person? The problem is that after a while such tactics start to boomerang on oneself, reflecting on one's own immature outlook, not the ex partner's. Meanwhile, the children are caught in the middle.

This person, in my opinion, has crossed the line. Why not keep her opinions to herself? It would have taken almost as much energy for her to work on forgiving her ex for whatever transgressions he's guilty of and create a loving supportive environment for her kids, that would also include their father, as to maintain an active, ongoing blog. (As blog authors, we know how much time, effort, and creativity our blogs take.)

So I choose not to visit her blog or link to it. Reading it would make me too angry. I'll just keep plugging away, minding my own business, and actively working on being content and at ease with my unexpected single life.

The Healing Power of Laughter

Despite my overwhelming grief, rage, and sadness during the early stages of my divorce, I experienced unexpected moments of happiness. My short bursts of laughter surprised me at first, as if I didn't deserve such a wonderful emotion.

I'd be with friends and family doing something I liked or was good at, like tubing down the river, and be totally in the moment. For a short period I would feel like my old self again: Happy, bright, funny, looking forward to a the future, and liking my friends and myself.

These infrequent respites gave me much needed relief from the emotional rollercoaster I was riding and from the constant worry, fear, and emotional pain I was feeling. I could never predict when these happy interludes would occur. Sometimes being with friends worked and sometimes this didn't, so I had to learn to roll with the punches. I would savor the few times when a puppy or laughing baby would transport me.

It's a well known fact that laughter boosts the immune system, and that depression and grief supress it. A friend of mine attended laughter therapy classes to counteract the pressures she felt before she defended her dissertation. I found that a funny movie, like A Night At the Opera with the Marx Brothers worked just as well for me.

The night that I discovered that my husband was engaged to someone else (while we were still seeing a therapist to "fix our marriage") I called a friend and asked him to tell me jokes. Listening to his silly stories calmed me down. My pain receded a little and I began to laugh. The more I laughed, the more my head cleared. As my tears dried, my mind became sharp again. Within half an hour of learning about Bob's engagement, I could focus on what I needed to do, which was to call him and confront him with what I'd learned.

When he told me that his getting engaged to another woman was all my fault, all I could do was laugh. The situation was so absurd! At that moment I felt a powerful surge of energy course through me. For the first time since Bob moved out of the house, I had the courage and clarity of insight to talk to him as an equal and someone who was in control of her life. This clarity of thought and reason stayed with me during the next few days, guiding me as Bob and I finalized our divorce. Within two weeks he had what he wanted - his freedom.

More on this blog about humor: Humor Will Get You Everywhere

Humor will get you everywhere

My dear friend Leslie died from breast cancer in June. During my divorce, she called every day. There were times when I was so lonely and exhausted from crying that I didn't know what to do. I would begin pacing, and then suddenly the phone would ring. It was always Leslie telling me she was thinking about me.

She would listen to my tale of woe for the day, then she would say something that would make me laugh. Both of us had a ridiculous sense of humor that, during this period, bordered on the macabre. After her phone call, I always felt better. With one simple act she had told me that I mattered and she had made me smile.

Shortly after I got a dog from the pound (which Bob had forbidden me to do. Hah!), Leslie sent me a refrigerator magnet that said this:

"I got a dog for my husband. It was an even trade."

I had a good laugh, but felt sad at the same time. I wanted both the dog AND my husband. This world lost a gem when Leslie lost her battle with the dreaded big C. God, how I miss her! The point of this post is that even during the darkest times you can find something to smile about. The people who seem to move through a difficult period with their sanity and humor intact are those who can stand back from their misery and see a larger world and their place in it. Life's too short to waste a large amount of your energy on something (or someone) you can't change.

What you CAN change is yourself and your attitude towards the situation. Thank God I had Leslie to keep me on an even keel. Here are a few more funnies Leslie would have enjoyed batting back and forth with me:

"I've never been married, but I tell people that I'm divorced so they won't think something's wrong with me." -- Elayne Boosler

Half of all marriages end in divorce.
That's not as bad as it sounds. The other half ended in death."

Former Education Secretary William Bennett attended a modern wedding where the bride and groom pledged in their wedding vows to remain together "as long as love shall last."
Bennett said, "I sent paper plates as my wedding gift."

Laughter and healing

I discovered an amazing thing during my separation from Bob: You can't cry and laugh at the same time. Oh, sure, you can laugh so hard that tears roll down your cheeks. But, if you smile or laugh as your are crying, the tears will dry up.

I would scurry from one workplace to the next as I tended my three jobs. When alone in the car, I would usually cry. A song would set me off. Or a memory. Or just the horribleness of the situation. I wore dark glasses to hide my pathetic swollen eyes. At the frame shop job, I would claim allergies for my condition. Of course, no one believed me.

Laughter and my absurd sense of humor saved me on many a dark day. My friends will tell you I can be funny. Even my ex enjoyed my humor (and I suspect he misses it, as his new wife is rather serious.) At parties, Vic could always be counted on to be jovial and cheery. And lest you think I'm a class clown, my nature is cheery. I just simply like to have fun.

By sheer accident I discovered how healing humor can be. Even during my darkest hours I could crack a joke. My humor put my friends at ease. It made me smile. It made them smile. It brought healing.

So when you find yourself crying buckets of tears, think of something wonderful and smile. Rent funny movies and laugh your heart out. Play with a puppy. Tickle a baby. Read a funny book. Nurture yourself with laughter. You'll feel better. Really.