Strength, Hope, and What was that other word, Clint?

 During those washing machine years mentioned in my previous blog, I spoke with my cousin, Clint, so much that he affectionately started calling me "Bob" from the movie What About Bob. If you aren't familiar with the movie, it's about a psychiatrist and his patient. Throughout the divorce, I guess my behavior reflected that of an annoying therapy client constantly in need of support and encouragement. Anyway, Clint's a bit of a ball buster, and today he read my blog. He sent me a text "Your blog was not the Mandy I have come to know and love." When I called for follow-up feedback, he told me there needed to be a humble summary cleaning up "my side of the street" and offering strength and hope.

I think I'll leave something I wrote while at the psychiatric hospital to address his request:

"Maybe the failures, struggles of my life serve a larger purpose. I've struggled and worked hard to provide mental healthcare -only to come up short with a failed business, 70k business loan, and a failed marriage. Perhaps my story is about hope, peace, joy, and closeness to God in a life of struggle where things seem unfair. This is who I have been this week in the hospital - the light, brightness, peace, and positivity in what feels like an "unfair" place to the other residents. This is the purpose of my stay here - to remind me who I am and whose I am. This is God's story, not my own." 

I can assure you that sitting in a psychiatric hospital is a low for a psychologist who spent a decade studying psychology and another decade practicing psychotherapy. I spent the entire first day at the psych hospital crying and receiving hugs and encouragement from the other residents, and then I was able to share that support with other newcomers to the unit. There is a construct in psychology called "post-traumatic growth," and I think this is what I've gained through my misfortunes, and this is the hope I have to offer to others who are struggling. 

My insights from my midlife crisis would be this:

1) Find a few people to confide in during a divorce. Talking with too many people can overwhelm an already confusing process. I had several close friends, but I selected my cousin Clint (from my family) and my sister-in-law Kristin (from Matt's family) as two safe people I shared my most vulnerable thoughts and feelings with throughout the divorce. 

2) Hold off on dating other people that will, again, only complicate your situation. There is a thing called limerence which can occur if you try too quickly to transfer your attachment to another person. Clint was actually pretty wise in sharing this information with me during my dating experiences. It didn't change my behavior, but it was advice I would listen to if I had it to do over.

3) Maybe give a full cycle of couples therapy an honest try before opting for divorce. Patience has never been my strong suit, and separation can be so destabilizing that seeking a swift resolve or divorce can be appealing, but that doesn't make it right. 

4) Don't allow church hurt or relationships with church goers to hurt your relationship (if you have one) with God. During divorce, it can feel like church is the least supportive place due to perceived judgements from others who just want you to preserve the marriage at all costs and for the sake of the kids. Others may hold narratives that you are at fault for the divorce. They may openly speculate about untrue things like infidelity. They may seem to think that you have no regard for your children while you are undergoing one of life's most difficult challenges. LET THEM. Don't waste your already depleted energy trying to correct the narratives of others, and don't conflate the judgements of people with judgments from God. Jesus suffered on this earth. He knows your suffering, and he is willing to walk with you through this process just as he was willing to sit with the woman at the well. 

5) Be patient with family who may not understand you or your actions. I lost contact with my family during the early stages of my divorce. I felt misunderstood and judged, and the isolation caused my mental health to decline. It took time for family to understand the complexities of my divorce. They showed up when I hit my lowest moments, and I'm glad I did not turn them away.

6) Seek psychological and psychiatric help as needed. I have no regrets about the work with my therapist, psychiatrist, going to the psychiatric hospital, or residential treatment. You would be surprised how many people in psychiatric hospitals and residential treatment are also going through divorce. These people normalized what I was going through and helped me learn how to grow through this trauma. 

 Everyone, please just be kind to people going through divorce. It's a club no one ever really wants to join. Very few people feel thankful for the dissolution of their family. It's not just a break-up. It's like the death of a family, and it's deserving of more reverence and care in our society. 

If I've learned how to better help one patient navigating divorce, then my pain has served a purpose. If one person reading this has greater compassion for a friend getting a divorce, I will be thankful that my washing machine experience helped another. 

If you're going through the washing machine, I can't tell you when it will stop, but I promise it will. It may not turn out as my story did with Matt, but if your heart is breaking into and you're just hoping to reunite - maybe you will. You also might find a greater love than you've ever known with someone else. Either way, the pain will not last forever. If you feel hopeless, please seek help. Call a therapist, admit to the psych hospital, or go to residential treatment. There are others who have navigated this process who can walk along beside you. You are not alone, and you are worthy of love and wholeness - married or divorced.