The Power of Story

I am fascinated by story. But more than that, I am held together by it.

Story makes everything make sense for me.

Story allows me to Build Boxes when I need them.

Story helps me regain perspective.

Story enables me to reconcile with painful experiences and move on.

Story allows me to put judgement aside and replace it with Love.

Story empowers me to channel my emotions in constructive and creative ways.

Ok, I hear you: Story is also the work of Rationalization. The number one way to talk yourself into or out of things you maybe shouldn’t. Storytelling in times of extreme stress can – as I have experienced a few times now – be a hazardous game. I count on my audience feedback to sometimes call me on stuff (thank you). But it is a HUGE comfort, and great therapy.

I will be doing a lot of storytelling in the months to come, as our mental health campaign ramps up. Mine is a victory story: one of how a supportive employer, access to great therapy, and a gracious partner have helped me come through an experience that not so many years ago might have been much more devastating to me. I would likely have suffered in silence, too ashamed to seek help. I shudder to think of it now – and that is how far we’ve come in de-stigmatizing mental illness.

Hallelujah. All Power to the Story.

Furthermore...

The beauty of social media – immediate feedback – is that I gain important insight into the effect of my words. I need this now more than ever – my emotions are on full power, and I am not going to get many things right. This is one of those times.

In my last post, it appears that I insulted my in-laws and the entire clan. That was not my intention. In fact, one of the many beautiful things I loved about being part of this family was how everyone – everyone – was still on good terms. They are this huge, complicated, lovely family and they are living proof that what Greg believed to be true made sense. I thank them for that. They helped me finally Get It.

No, I do not mean to cast aspersions on anyone. I have learned that everyone must be free to be themselves, live their lives, and sometimes, things don’t work out. Sometimes, we disagree on things. It’s not about right or wrong. It’s just about Different. My anger came from my own place of hurt, and I wrapped it in a blanket of words that didn’t hit the notes I wanted.

This is still first and foremost my journey – it involves taking charge, probably for the first time, of my mental health. It involves exploring the self esteem issues I have accumulated over the years. It involves focusing on love and respect in all of my interactions.

Somehow, I needed to tell this story of how I am managing, perhaps as a way of having some control over the script of The End of Our Marriage. I still want this to be a story with a happy ending – like all of the other happy endings my husband’s family has demonstrated can be possible.

So I will stop talking about anyone but myself in this blog and elsewhere on social media. I am very sorry to have come across as judgemental. I love and admire the entire bunch of them, and miss them terribly. I still hope that that relationship also will survive. Only Time and Space will tell.

Space, Time, and Building a Box

My husband and I grew up in very different circumstances. My parents were the quintessential Partners in Crime, only to be separated by the death of my mother. Marriage for me was a Forever thing, featuring two people who together were stronger and better because of the partnership.

For Greg, the stories were quite different. Let’s just say that he was exposed at a very early age to a somewhat more fluid concept of “partnership” and “fidelity”. It’s a wonder, really, that he chose to try this little experiment with “marriage” at all.

Now that we are separated, Greg feels he is free to behave as a single man. So while we still live at the same address, committed to finishing what we’ve started with this house, he is living a separate life – moving on.

And this is where our difference in backgrounds has reared its ugly head.

I would never date anyone who was separated, much less married. Even as my last marriage was ending, I took Space and Time to heal before entertaining the thought of dating Greg. I wanted to come to my next relationship whole and healed, not broken and carrying baggage. But most of all, that is my value system.

Greg simply doesn’t get that. And why would he? His frame of reference is so different from mine. And in his mind, apparently, “the marriage has been over for years”.

So he is now dating – our bass player (sorry, I just threw up a little in my mouth). And this story just got messier. At this point, I had some options:

• Get really, really, angry, and throw him out (yep, thought about that one a LOT);
• Get really, really, sad, and throw myself in the river (that thought comes to me some nights instead of sleep); or
• Get really, really, smart, and stay focused on the Long Game.

After some good talks with our therapist, I am choosing the third option. In the grand scheme of things, Greg and I are still committed to getting through this intact. We don’t want to fight about money; we have clear agreement on our plans for finishing the house; and we don’t want to get ugly or mean with each other. So how do I get through this?

I see clearly that this is a matter of perspective. I finally understand that I can't apply my Expectations to someone else's reality. You see, I get that Greg truly believes he is not being unfaithful to me. From his perspective, he is right. So who am I to tell him otherwise? Seriously, at this stage of the game, it's small stuff.

It's up to me to find a way to reconcile it with my Expectations.

And I can only do that with Space, Time, and by Building a Box. Space and time are helping me accept this latest bump in the road, and I am working on building a box into which I will stuff the things that are lurking in the shallows to drag me down:

• Don’t think about it.
• Don’t think about it.
• Don't think about it.

Box-building is an interesting activity. It is an act of sheer will to say “get in the box!” when a nasty thought enters. With practice, it is getting easier. 

In the fullness of time, and with a little space, our friendship may yet survive. After 13 years together, that is the only option. I still see Greg as an honourable, sincere man, with whom I have shared so much that I will always value. I will not dishonor everything we’ve had over this latest clash in values.

So for the time being, I will Build my Box, and work hard to fill the time and space between now and when I’m ready to open it with love, no more anger. That's over.

Love and respect is where we started this chapter of our lives. With this Perspective adjustment, I can find my way back to that Centre - and to the healthier side of the Continuum...