Emotional Tides

When I discovered my ex was not only having affairs but was moving money to create an entirely new life apart from our family, I was understandably crushed. I went through stages: shock, pain, panic and finally anger. The anger stayed with me the longest and was by far the strongest of the stages, with panic being a close second. Panic actually controlled me for the first part of my separation and subsequent divorce. I never had a career to speak of, as I followed my husband around the country for his. Oh I worked, but every time I started to enjoy a position or advance in a job, my ex was transferred. He kept seniority with his job, but each time we moved, I was forced to start over again with mine. I also was the one primarily responsible for our children, so my job always took a back seat, which I was fine with when the children were young. My youngest son is autisitic, requiring a great deal of my time, which I was more than happy to give. At the risk of seeming immodest, I do honestly feel, at least part of the reason my son is doing so well, is because of the time I spent with him. I researched new therapies, worked with him on social skills, and kept his spirits up when he was bullied in school. I would not have had it any other way. Nor would I have traded the time I spent with my older son. But it can’t be denied that staying at home and then working part-time in private schools hurt my chances of financial independence when my ex decided to leave.

I panicked over how I would pay my bills and mortgage, how I would afford healthcare, how I would be a good mother to my kids while having to go back to work full time. Yes, there was a bit of alimony, but that hardly kept me afloat and once my youngest turned 18, there was no child support. I figured it out, but not without having several near (as in standing on the edge of precipice toes overlapping the edge, hoping a strong wind wouldn’t appear, near) nervous breakdowns, panic attacks and more sleepless nights than I can recall. So yes, panic was at the forefront when the divorce first happened, but once I began to put a plan in place, anger slowly seeped in to replace it.

Not that it wasn’t always there, but I guess I was in such a state of panic, I couldn’t give in to both emotions at once while still remaining afloat. But once I began to take positive steps forward, I grew angrier by the day. He moved back to Houston to take up with one of his “sluts du jour”, leaving me to empty, fix up and sell the house. I could not afford our home’s upkeep, so we agreed to sell and split the proceeds. What I didn’t expect was that I would be the one to sell it while looking for a new place for me, my sons and my 16 year old beagle. I had to not only look for a new residence, but since I was downsizing, I needed to get rid of over 25 years of collective “stuff”. The work was not only physically hard, but was emotionally devastating as well. Discarding years of memories was sometimes only exhausting, but at other times, heartbreakingly painful. While in the midst of it, I realized I should have insisted he stay and help but at the time, I just wanted him gone. In hindsight it was foolish and impulsive but that was the situation and it made me angry at him for leaving with no regard for his family and at myself for being such a pushover.

When I found a place to live, I had to arrange for movers, pack, and move with the help of my friends, and family. Once I got into the new house, I needed to find a job that had actual benefits and a real paycheck or at least a more substantial one than my current job at a small private school paid. I discussed this in an earlier blog piece, but it was extremely difficult to be in my fifties, with an autistic son dealing with depresson, another son off in grad school, moving into a new home, and job hunting.

I fortunately found a job within the county teaching Early Childhood Special Education. Since I had so much experience, the county hired me as a provisional teacher with the caveat that I would have to to get my VA teaching license and certification within 2 years. That meant applying to and going back to grad school in my fifites, while starting a new job, taking care of my son etc. etc. etc. And while grateful for the opportunity, I was so very angry that I had to go through all this when just a few years earlier we were talking about where we would like to retire.

As though my career and home life wasn’t bad enough, within a five year period, I lost my youngest brother, my mother and then my father which was physically and emotionally draining. My family was my rock during my divorce. To lose a good chunk of that foundation during my personal crisis, only added to my stress level. They all had lengthy illnesses resulting in frequent trips to NJ and endless phone calls with doctors and my brothers, while going to grad school and working full time at a new job. I was angry that I had to do all that, was angry that I was losing my parents and brother and angry that I had no control over so much of what was happening in my life. At the time I didn’t even have time to properly mourn because my life was so complex and yes, that made me angry too. My son was in a deep depression and I was also handling that and attending therapy sessions with him on my own and yes, I was angry that his father played no part in that either. He was busy in his bachelor pad, living the good life with barely a thought to his sons.

So yes, anger was by far the longest lasting of the emotions I experienced during this time. But then almost imperceptibly, somewhere along the way, the anger began to dissipate. It will never be gone. There are times it flares up again, but for the most part, it is no longer controlling my life. I’m not sure when I first noticed it, as it came upon me so gradually, much like low tide at the ocean. One minute it’s high tide and then all of a sudden you realize the tide has gone out and the crashing waves have been replaced with a gentle lapping along the shore. It happens so gradually, you barely noticed. That’s how my anger left me.

I guess there were a few waves that helped create the release: landing a great new job with amazing beneifits, earning my Master’s Degree and teaching license, finding a nice new house, watching my son begin to take part in life again, realizing that we were going to be not only okay, but good, really good! All of that happened gradually, until one day I realized I not only was okay but I was stronger and happier than I ever was, especially during the last 10 years of my marriage. To look back at all I accomplished in spite of the seemingly endless adversity, gave my beaten down confidence a necessary boost.Losing that anger brought happiness and a sense of relief, because life is too short to let anger eat away at you. In the end, anger seems to only hurt you, not the person or situation you are angry with. Once I realized that, the rest followed seamlessly.

Unfortunately, I still have some work to do on forgiveness. Every time I get close, I seem to be blindsided by something. For example, It’s been hard to accept my role as the stereotypical first wife. We could never afford vacations, or so I was told, as our money was spent flying home to visit family once a year and paying for my youngest son’s therapies. When we did go on a rare vacation, it was always on the cheap. I admit it’s tough to watch my ex and his new wife going on cruises, staying at five-star hotels, and building their dream house. But is that anger, or resentment?? Or is resentment the same as anger? St. Augustine said, “Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” I certainly don’t want to make poison a part of my daily diet, so I try to push it out of my mind. My resentment will not change anything for my ex but will be continue to be harmful for me. Sometimes I am more successful at ignoring that feeling than other times. I mean, I’m only human, right? I say this as I sit on the deck overlooking the ocean in a condo I am renting with my friend Wendy, in Ocean City MD, during the off-season, so it’s affordable! Not that I am not enjoying myself, but a five-star hotel in a resort when it’s warm enough to swim would be nice too!! But I digress…..

While it may be awhile before I can forgive Mark for his lying, cheating, and the verbal abuse directed at both me and our sons, I find myself feeling sorry for him at times and those times are increasing in frequency. Neither of my sons has a good relationship with their father. When we got divorced, I told them not to be influenced by me and forge whatever relationship they want with their father. Unfortunately for Mark, there was too much damage done before the divorce for the boys to want a relationship with him. The bottom line is, he was not a good father. Oh he made a good salary and provided financially for us, but he was never really “present” in their lives. I don’t know if he never wanted children, despite the fact that he said he did, but he always saw the kids as an annoyance. He was particularly short-tempered with Chris, our youngest, and had no patience for his disability. The result was Chris felt hurt and insecure when his father was around and eventually withdrew from him. Jonathan, our oldest, was treated better until he started challenging his father, sticking up for his brother and me and basically becoming an independent young man. That was when the fights started, and Jonathan too withdrew from Mark.

It wasn’t until he became serious with his current wife that Mark tried to make amends with his sons. I suspect to her credit, his new wife encouraged this and for that I am grateful. Unfortunately it was a “too little, too late” situation. The boys barely tolerate him. They’ve been to visit him maybe 3 times in 12 years. Mark started coming up here once a year, visits that resulted in Chris sinking back into depression and Jonathan silently and sometimes, not so silently, fuming.

Mark would eventually try to buy things for the kids and while Jonathan took the money Chris always said “I don’t want anything from him. All I ever wanted was for him to tell me he was proud of me”. That breaks my heart to this day. I started feeling sorry for Mark then, because I realized he will never know what wonderful young men his sons became. He will never get back those years and I was sad for him. But the real pity came on this last visit. Apparently Mark and Jonathan got into a screaming match at a local restaurant and it was Chris who tried to broker peace. He tried to tell Mark that the argument they were having wasn’t about whatever topic they were discussing, but was the result of anger and hurt built up over the years. I think Chris was hoping that this may have opened things up and they could finally get some resolution. Mark admited he wasn’t the “best father”, a huge step. But then apparently he left to go to the men’s room and when he returned he changed the subject and began talking about things neither of the boys cared about. Both boys told me they were so disappointed that their father let this opportunity pass and they knew there would never be a resolution. And it was at that point, I was very sad for all of them.

I always thought I was fortunate as I never had to compete for my kids’ attention with their father, like so many of my divorced friends, but actually I felt very sorry, not for me, but for Mark. He obviously doesn’t know either of his kids. He has no idea what he has missed and no idea he can never get it back. He will not have years of memories of holiday traditions to look back on. He will never have silly private jokes with his children. He will never share the milestones of a new job, or an engagement. He may have all the money in the world to buy expensive cars and go on great vacations, but despite all that, he doesn’t have his sons in his life in any real sense, and that is a huge hole that can never be filled. Unless he makes some drastic changes, he will die a lonely old man and that is on him. Still, it makes me sad and I feel sorry for him.

Jonathan is getting married next month and he actually did invite his father, which I’m glad about. Neither of the boys is happy about it, but Jon felt he should and I told him I agreed. This will be an awkward situation all around, but mostly for my ex. I will at least have my family and friends as a support bubble, while Mark will only have his new wife and I’m sure it will be tough for him and awkward for her. I actually feel no animosity toward wife #2. She was not one of his “sluts du jour”, as he met her after our divorce. And let’s face it, she’s married to my ex, I should pity her! But digressing again…… The bottom line is, I kind of feel sorry for him but not really. Part of me is thinking “you reap what you sow”. At the wedding, I intend to be gracious, say my polite hellos and move on. My brothers and sisters-in -law and friends don’t want to see him. How will he feel? And more importantly, why do I care? Which brings me full circle.

If you had asked me 13 years ago if I would ever feel anything but contempt for my ex, I would have called you crazy. Yes I still can’t forgive him, but I do feel pity for him. I feel pity for the fact that his sons are not part of his life. I feel pity for the fact that he has no idea why they are not part of his life and I feel pity for the fact that unless he has an epiphany of epic proportions, he will never experience the love and joy of having his children to help share his life. Honestly, I’m surprised that I have come to this point, but I guess just as the tide sneaks up on you, so too do emotions. I’m not sure how I feel about that. For myself, I’m happy I’ve moved on from the panic for sure. I’m surprised I’ve for the most part, moved past the anger, but I’m very surprised that I feel sorry for the man who almost destroyed me 13 years ago. And I’m a little angry at that. I don’t want to feel bad for him or worry he will never know his kids or think about who will talk to him at his son’s wedding….Anger…..sigh…..it seems to evolve but has yet to dissipate…maybe some day. But then again, the tides of the ocean are consistent, so maybe not?