melissag VIII - but I'm afraid to have no fear!

[melissag]

Eventually I laid down on the couch and started tearing up. No sobbing, just tears and I just accepted...she's gone, she's where she wants to be, I can do nothing about it. It was a big "aha" moment that came on it's own...not a verb where I chose to do it, it just came.

This comes to me all the time. My H is gone. He is doing whatever he wants, and he doesn't care one whit about what I am doing, how or why. And I have no control over that. I accept that is reality. But I don't view that as letting go. I still love him. His actions and words still affect me.

I am doing all the things you suggested . . . moving forward with my life, and letting him do his thing.

It's just that everyone keeps telling me to let him go and I don't know what that means.

[Underdog]

Hey ladies,

Just finished printing out 1099s and doing sales tax returns, so I deserve a break! Great dialogue here.

Melissa, my version of letting go just means being. Not looking at the train wreck your H is causing, but focusing on your day to day operations with the kids (including a 6th trip to see Frozen?) and ruminating on the possibilities for YOU. What does 2014 look like for Melissa? Let's pretend for a a few moments that you weren't worrying about your H. What would you be mulling or doing? Then just go do it!

Back when I joined the BB, this forum was moderated by successful DBers on a daily basis. One of the things they used to say to us was, "If you weren't putting your energy into thinking about this issue, what would you be doing?" We'd answer and then they'd tell us to go do it! It's a relief when you drop that rope.

As a reformed control freak, I can tell you that constantly trying to control everything just wore me out. Once I started letting things happen naturally, I noticed that everyone else followed suit. We all became happier when I wasn't constantly trying to put gas in that car and DRIVE. That's what letting go means to me.

25, I'm one of those people like your basketball parents. In fact, I credit volleyball for helping us restore our friendship. Our D19 has always played sports, but chose volleyball at the age of 11 and jumped head first into playing club. We're the ones who sit together and who text each other when we watch her play if the other is not present. He was able to go watch her play in the Elite 8 in Michigan this year, and although I was watching the live stream, his texts made me feel connected there. Uh, and we were also the weirdos who traveled together.

I can't speak for your friends, but I can speak for us. The ink had not even dried on our decree when D19 started playing. I knew right then and there that in order for her to fall in love with it the way I could see she wanted to do, that it would require both of us loving it with her and making it fun for HER by getting along. It was EASY. It was easy because we both love her beyond belief, she loves both of us, and she loves volleyball. It helped us heal. We love her so much that we were eager to share the experience of growing up with her.

But I wonder if you may want to stop emphasizing the losses, & May I suggest you Start with a change in focus.

I wholeheartedly agree with this paradigm shift. You have to start and end each day reminding yourself of what you DO have.

As 25 and I are both in the same age range and you're both a decade behind us, I think we can kinda hold your hand through this. Here's something that we've both experienced that you are some years off in doing, and it pertains to the kids. I hate to tell you this, but you only really have a couple more years with your kids before they think you're a nuisance who is put on this earth to thwart them. It won't be long before your D9 goes to the mall with you and tells you that she wants you to walk behind her, or sit somewhere else at the food court. I did it to my mom, and my D19 did it to me. Letting go is going to have to be your mantra there too. So you're really not missing out on spending more time with your kids.

Instead, focus on the time you have as quality time. I know you do this already, Melissa, but make it your #1 goal, ALL the time. I chose not to be a SAHM. I'm just not wired to do it. But I can tell you that I chose to be present with them when they were with me, and that worked just fine. My point here is that you aren't losing your kids, and they aren't losing you.

If you wind up going back to work - whatever work you choose - chances are your kids are going to see you as accomplished, and they probably won't take you for granted. I may come across as bragging, but I would have done a good job with my girls no matter what my circumstance was. My commitment to them never wavered. Just like yours doesn't. Your household may be different, but you have real love present there. Every hour of every day. That can't be destroyed. So count your blessings.

I no longer think that it's awful we couldn't parent together in the same house. We did a terrific job as is. What I wish we had was the kind of relationship I had envisioned heading in to retirement. I don't have that, but the reality is I have a happy life - surrounded by people who love me. It's good enough for me.

Before I go, I'll tell you the stop sign that got me derailed from negative thinking. It was the mantra that said, "Why on earth are you focusing your attention on the one person who doesn't care what you're doing, thinking or feeling? Aren't there people who WANT you in their life?"

It was pretty powerful for me, and enough for me to redirect elsewhere.

You can do it. You're smart and willing. Sometimes that's good enough!

Betsey

[Underdog]

One other thing, now that I've read your recent post...

Which leads me to . . . I realized today that one of my big fears around D is being a failure. I realized that, though I don't consider myself a particularly materialistic person, I in fact do view a nice car, a nice house, and being married as successes in life. If/when we get D, I will have to downgrade my car and house, and my standard of living in general, and, worst of all, I will be D. Something I never wanted to be, because I view D as a failure. A cop out. Something that only weak people do. (I hope I am not offending anyone here, I am just trying to be honest with myself . . . and obviously I am challenging these long held beliefs.)

I'm not offended. Okay, so my marriage failed. Does that make me a failure? After all, I did everything I could possibly do to keep that door wide open, and it just didn't work out. If anyone was weak, it was my H.

I'm glad you challenge your beliefs. Because they aren't only unfair to yourself and others, they just aren't true. It's just the flip side of the coin of being a perfectionist. When is doing what you can good enough, Melissa? Some things come to a head no matter our intentions or the work we've put into the issue.

When you were a lawyer... if you lost a case (maybe even a big one)... were you a failure? Or did the one big case have some fundamental flaws that you just couldn't see? There are technicalities, unfair or biased juries and judges, people lie under oath... there are lots of reasons cases can't be won. If they are out of your control, that still makes you a failure?

I've failed at a lot of things in my life. Failing at my marriage was probably the biggest. But my definition of failure is if I don't learn from the experience. THEN I'm a failure.

My standard of living has been downgraded. I haven't had a true splurgy vacation in a few years (I have typically spent my time off following my volleyball player around like a gypsy). I don't have a new car. And I definitely wear yoga pants more than I should. Okay. I wish I had a *little* more money to play with, but I'm okay. I can put food on the table. I can take care of my girls (with my child support being generous). I can put gas in my car, and I can travel a little bit every year. My XH and I send our D19 to a $52K/year engineering school (thankfully her grades qualify her for a boatload of scholarship money). All is well in my world.

Every night, I say thank you to the big guy above for giving me enough to take care of things. The best part is that my D19 has grown up to be a grateful person. And neither of my kids has known true lack. That's good enough for me.

[melissag]

Melissa, my version of letting go just means being. Not looking at the train wreck your H is causing, but focusing on your day to day operations with the kids (including a 6th trip to see Frozen?) and ruminating on the possibilities for YOU.

I'm really not being a wise guy here, but what percent of the time? I do this for the most part (it's all relative - 3 months ago I could think of nothing else, could barely eat or sleep), but to get to 100% or even 90% or 80% seems way far off.

What does 2014 look like for Melissa? Let's pretend for a a few moments that you weren't worrying about your H. What would you be mulling or doing? Then just go do it!

This is where my work is right here. I haven't even thought about what I want to do for years. I mean, I did things I wanted to do, but they were all things like, "plan a vacation for the family," or "shop for clothes for my kids." I'm not saying I regret doing things for my family; but I see now that it was damaging to me personally and my M (and, if it had continued, likely would be for my kids too - hoping I can turn that around) to completely give up my own needs (or even acknowledge that I had any).

So now, I do a lot of things to take care of and nurture myself. I do yoga, kickboxing, running, I train in Tae Kwon Do. I spend time with my friends, go out for drinks every so often, shop, get mani/pedis, meet old friends for lunch, read, and (most fun) spend quality time with my kiddos.

Yet . . . none of these things fill the void left by my H. And maybe I shouldn't expect them to. Yet. I will say it helps a LOT. First, because I feel better about myself, healthier and more productive. And second, because it gives me something to focus on aside from the mess the rest of my life is.

I really do think that I have dropped the vast majority of my controlling tendencies. It was actually much easier than I expected (I think because it was more a learned habit for me than anything else), and it does feel like a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders.

UD, I love your story about your D's volleyball and how you and H came together to support her. I hope that H and I can do the same for our kids. I think we can. We also train TKD together as a family, and I hope that we can continue that.

I wholeheartedly agree with this paradigm shift. You have to start and end each day reminding yourself of what you DO have.

You are right. I feel like there are phases to this "journey," and I think I am ready to start being grateful and looking at things with a new perspective. I am certainly not finished grieving . . . nowhere close. But it does not consume me anymore, and it shouldn't. My toughest times are morning and evening . . . when I would be starting or ending the day with my H. That's when I need to be affirmatively looking for the positives in life and finding gratitude for what I do have. I need to make it a daily practice.

Instead, focus on the time you have as quality time. I know you do this already, Melissa, but make it your #1 goal, ALL the time. I chose not to be a SAHM. I'm just not wired to do it. But I can tell you that I chose to be present with them when they were with me, and that worked just fine. My point here is that you aren't losing your kids, and they aren't losing you.

I do need to spend my time with them enjoying them and bonding with them and appreciating them, rather than being sad that I don't get more time with them. Yes. I am not convinced that I am not losing them to some extent - yes, we can still have a great R, but it won't be the way I had envisioned . . . and I am not sure I can ever think that they will be better off this way than being raised by both parents together rather than splitting time. But, I am not arrogant enough to think that I know how I will feel 1, 5, or 10 years from now . . . so I will try to stay open minded about it. Especially because you say this:

I no longer think that it's awful we couldn't parent together in the same house. We did a terrific job as is.

And I am having a very hard time with this:

What I wish we had was the kind of relationship I had envisioned heading in to retirement.

I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Before I go, I'll tell you the stop sign that got me derailed from negative thinking. It was the mantra that said, "Why on earth are you focusing your attention on the one person who doesn't care what you're doing, thinking or feeling? Aren't there people who WANT you in their life?"

Thanks for this. I think I will use it, if you don't mine. It's so true, just requires me to accept that H truly doesn't give a crap. That's a sad reality.

[Underdog]

Melissa,

I'm on my iPad and not as proficient with it. So if it autocorrects, you can ask me what the hell I was talking about.

I am not convinced that I am not losing them to some extent - yes, we can still have a great R, but it won't be the way I had envisioned . . . and I am not sure I can ever think that they will be better off this way than being raised by both parents together rather than splitting time.

Well, why would you want to dwell on this? We never asked you to convince yourself of this. But the fact is, we're much happier when we accept what is. You don't have to like it, and I'm not saying you should. But try to shift your paradigm to one that says, " I'll do the best job I can."

I didn't mean to make you sad about not having a fabulous R with him heading into my golden years. Truth: I look at him now and see someone I wouldn't have married if he had been the guy he is now. He's fun and a great dad, and we're friends, but he's just not emotionally available enough for the person I am now. I no longer pray for God to make a square peg fit in my round hole.

And one more thing:

It's so true, just requires me to accept that H truly doesn't give a crap.

Don't put words in my mouth, because I don't believe this and didn't mean this. Your H obviously does care. But he can't be with you right now, and he's been honest by telling you his truth as it is right now. That might not be the case down the road. But I DO think he gives a crap. Just not the way you want it.

Your H sounds broken right now, Melissa. I learned not to label people because as humans, we're complicated and not easily or accurately labeled or categorized. He's not the villain. He sure made choices that caused a lot of hurt in his wake, but I doubt he considers himself awful or despicable. Try to see his conundrum from his POV. His pain must be immense to take such drastic measures. Try to find some compassion for that.

Gineen, thanks for weighing in on failure. I happen to really like you and see you as a success too. You inspire ME.

Try not to dwell on the past and get stuck in the trap of "what if". That's a misery maker if ever I saw one. You don't have to be perfect to move forward, Melissa. When you find yourself in a stinking thinking pattern, engage in some sort of visual stop sign technique. It's not realistic to expect otherwise. Especially with grieving. That process is not linear either. There are good hours and bad ones. Down the road you'll get to good days and bad hours. Then gradually have bad moments. I still do. Especially when I'm shoveling snow in my 3 car driveway or mowing the lawn. I happen to like the gender role that females have. But I can't change things, and when I find myself pissy that I'm shoveling, I try to be grateful that I got the house in the D and I love my 3 car garage. It allowed me to keep my girls in a great school district and keep their friends. That made everyone happy.

It's all in how we choose to see things.

Hugs,

Betsey

[labug]

It's all in how we choose to see things.

I know it's hard to believe this right now, but it's the key to having control of you and your life.

I sense that there's a void in you that was there before H came into your life, he filled it for a while and now that he's gone, it's empty again.

[melissag]

Melissa, you must know nice houses, luxury cars and fancy vacations don't define success, right ? And divorce doesn't define failure. Not on your part anyways.

Well, that's the funny (not funny haha, funny curious) thing . . . I would say I do NOT think those things define success, and I would not say that someone who doesn't have them is not successful, yet when I find myself looking at the reality of not having those things, it makes me feel like a failure.

Did you have a lot of pressure growing up to be a "success" or perfect? Maybe it's where your need to control comes from? ( I'm not saying you are controlling personally, I just recall you saying that)Just asking, it's a good thing to look at.

Well . . . my Dad went to undergrad Brown, Master's at Harvard and Yale law degree. My brother (older) has an MBA from a top ten MBA program and I graduated from a top ten law school. We're a bunch of overachievers. I don't think of my parents as demanding perfection, but there were the times. Like when I got an A- and my Dad said, "why not an A?" And he laughed, but still. My Dad is not an emotional guy, doesn't often say he is proud, that kind of thing. So I'm starting to think maybe that's where I got this never good enough BS. Also, I see that my Mother questioned a lot of my decisions - she does it to my kids. ("Are you sure you want to buy THAT stuffed animal? You already have three stuffed cats and this one isn't as cute as the dog anyway. Come look over here at the dogs." or "don't paint the blue on top of the red!" argh.)

As far as being controlling, I do think I got that from good ol' Dad. I think that he did it for reasons related to a crappy childhood; I just picked it up as a habit.

Perfectionism probably came from childhood but also, I see that when I decided to quit working, I knew I had to be THE BEST MOM EVER. (Where else would I apply my Type A, overachiever personality?) It resulted in me ignoring my own needs and my H's needs. Not good.

I am thinking (as I organize my house with all the expensive furniture and tons of clothes and other belongings that I would gladly trade for a happy M) that while I know deep down that these things don't mean success . . . maybe I grabbed onto them as I felt my own self disappearing and my M struggling. After all, if we drove nice cars and lived in a nice house, and had two adorable, smart, well-mannered children and vacationed in Hawaii, we were living the good life, right?

I am also embarrassed to admit that the weak part of me would prefer to be the SAHM in the not-so-great M who has all the trappings than the single Mom scraping by but who has gained herself back. Oh, the ugly things I see when I look in the mirror. I am hoping that I will prove myself wrong here, I think I am just scared of the unknown.

And GM, when you talk about your own sitch, I totally admire you and would never call you a failure. Why are we so much harder on ourselves than we are on the rest of the world? (Where is the head shaking emoticon?)

[melissag]

I sense that there's a void in you that was there before H came into your life, he filled it for a while and now that he's gone, it's empty again.

I will have to mull that over. I'm not sure it's so much that, as I have never been able to truly feel joy. All of my friends think I am happy-go-lucky because I am generally content and have been pretty lucky in life up until now. But when I look back, I see that I have always had trouble with vulnerability, processing difficult emotions, and allowing myself to feel true joy without waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Since I am on a roll with admitting embarrassing things about myself, I'll tell you about the night H proposed. He gave a little speech and I had no idea what was going on. Then he asked me to marry him, and I said, "shut up!" Not in a mean way, but like "shut the front door!" kind of way. Because I wanted to make sure that he really meant it before I got all excited, just in case he was joking or I misunderstood.

I realized recently that both H and I do this thing where we can't bear to be viewed as wrong, or chance looking stupid. (Well, I have stopped.) So for example, instead of saying, "would you like me to pick up the kids at 8?" We might say, "I assume you need me to pick the kids up at 8, so you can go running?" Or, "I figure you don't want the kids that late, so I'll pick them up at 8." Like, we already knew what the other person was thinking. Here's an actual convo that occurred between H and a friend of ours:

Friend: "Wife and I are getting divorced."
H: "Oh, I can see why, you never spent that much time together."
Friend: "No, it's because she decided she doesn't want to have kids after all."

Oops.

OK, I'm starting to ramble, but to get to your point, labug, I am not sure that it was so much a void as that I hadn't really learned to live the way I wanted to; I was in a place where I could not feel the things I needed to feel (I guess I must have been taught to stuff down feelings as a kid), but I didn't really know that. It's just now that I am fixing this stuff.

And as an aside, I can't recall if it was you, labug, who steered me toward Brene Brown's work, but I have to say, I LOVE HER! I feel like she is me. 100%. In fact, I not only am reading two of her books, but I am also joining a 14-week Daring Way group that starts in a few weeks . . . with the goal being to live a "wholehearted" life. I am really excited about it.

About the kids:

Well, why would you want to dwell on this? We never asked you to convince yourself of this. But the fact is, we're much happier when we accept what is. You don't have to like it, and I'm not saying you should. But try to shift your paradigm to one that says, " I'll do the best job I can."

I know, I know! It's not that I'm not doing this. I think I am just not ALL THE WAY there yet. Before, I was in "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS!!" phase. Now I am in, "Fine, I will do it, but I won't like it" phase. I am working towards getting to the phase I need to be, where I just drop the whining. I'm getting there, I swear.

I no longer pray for God to make a square peg fit in my round hole.

This is a great point, UD. It's one I am struggling with a bit. On one hand, it's easy to say, well, I wasn't SO happy all the time with my H anyway, and I deserve more that what he has to offer right now, that's for sure. But then there's the other side, which is, OK, but look, I'm never going to find someone who is perfect for me - that doesn't exist. And I'd rather have the devil I do know (and love, and have two children with) than the unknown.

Don't put words in my mouth, because I don't believe this and didn't mean this. Your H obviously does care. But he can't be with you right now, and he's been honest by telling you his truth as it is right now. That might not be the case down the road. But I DO think he gives a crap. Just not the way you want it.

My apologies, UD. I didn't mean to put words in your mouth. And you are right, he obviously does care to some extent, just not nearly as much as he cares about himself. And I do think my H is broken. Heck, I think I am/was broken. And I do have compassion for him. My problem really is in balancing the empathy I have for him, and the love I have for him, with living my life in some way that doesn't make me constantly feel hurt and sad. Of course it is much easier to say, forget him, he's a jerk . . . but I don't really think he is a jerk. And even if he is, he is my favorite jerk in the world. I am just not sure that feeling love for him is helping me. And I am having trouble separating my feelings for him and my hurt around this with compassion and understanding for him.

It's all in how we choose to see things.

This is so right, and I agree with labug that this is the key. I think I am getting there - I see that I am getting better at it. I was thinking today about how I think that seeing these things, and then putting them into practice, takes some time. The deep hole that we find ourselves in at BD is not easy to climb out of all at once. It takes a lot of effort, and sliding back in just when we have started to make more progress.

I truly, TRULY appreciate all the advice I have received here. I feel incredibly lucky that so many of the wisest people here have posted on my threads. And not only am I open to advice, but I take almost every single bit of it to heart. It has helped me tremendously in surviving my sitch, and I know it will continue to help me thrive, no matter what my H does.

So I am sorry if I whine sometimes. It doesn't mean I am not listening. It just means that I work really hard at this stuff, and sometimes I get tired and whiny.

[labug]

I have never been able to truly feel joy

that my dear, I would call a pretty big void.

Good for you on following up with the Brene Brown stuff.

[melissag]

Hi all . . . the last few pages on my threads have got me thinking that maybe I am posting too much whining and negativity.

I want you to know I'm really not like that all the time. To me, this board is kind of the opposite of Facebook. On FB, you post only the cute pictures of yourself, the cute and smart things your kids say, the awesome vacations you took, and how happy you are. Well, here, I know I am going to get support and 2x4s, so I just let it all out. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I hope that by being 100% honest, it will not only help me (by both journaling, and hearing others weigh in), but that it might help someone else who is feeling the same way.

I struggle with a lot of things right now, obviously, and I am committed to digging DEEP (did I mention that I am an overachiever? I don't half ass) and continuing until I am satisfied that I am living the life I want to live, where I can be authentic, work through hard feelings, and truly feel joy and happiness; and passing the same down to my children. (I am sure that living well is a practice, so I don't mean to say that at some point I will be finished; but hopefully at some point I will stop having ugly realizations about myself. )

My life is good. I have awesome friends. My kids are healthy and happy. I find time in my schedule to volunteer for several charitable organizations. I help my friends when they need it. I sing (and sometimes dance, you don't want to see that though) in the shower and the car. I treat my H (and my friends, my family, and strangers) kindly and with respect. I spend quality time with my kids and my friends. (My cat may be a bit neglected lately, I am working on that. ) I keep up my house, yard, patio, car. I enjoy the sun on my face and when it snows, I open the sunroof and let it fall around me while I drive. I stop to look at rainbows, sunrises, and sunsets. I have maintained good relationships with most of H's family. I am in good health and I take care of myself physically. I exercise every day and eat (relatively) healthily. And damn, I look good!

I appreciate ALL of those things. And more.

I do have many times during the day when I feel sad, or scared, or angry about my sitch. Some days are harder than others. Sometimes I just say, FML. And on very rare occasions, but it happens, I wish the ground would open up and swallow me. Sometimes I (in my head) take out my anger on my H. But I do love him deeply, I have compassion for him, and I take full ownership of my contributions to the failure of our M.

I know I come here a lot and bitch and moan and whine and throw tantrums, but I want you to know that I listen to ALL of the advice I get here, and I put it into action. Some things take longer to implement than others. Some things I fight at first, because I don't like being in my sitch, and I am still not completely there when it comes to accepting it. But every time someone posts on my threads, whether it's with empathy, sympathy, advice, or a 2x4, it helps me move forward. And I appreciate that more than you will ever know.

So I am sorry if I seem whiny and negative . . . I'll try to post more happy things.

Sorry for this ramble. Just more of me letting it all hang out.