When I was married to a good man who suffered from addiction, I was terrified of leaving him. I thought about leaving all the time; I think part of me always knew, we would end up in divorce, but the idea of actually leaving paralyzed me with fear.
There were times I was so upset I would try to will myself to leave, but for many reasons, I was always unable to walk away from a very unhealthy relationship. I thought, “Am I stuck in this marriage forever? Do I really have the courage to take my kids and leave?”
There was a day when I made a tough decision to plan my divorce.
Although I didn't have everything figured out, I believed in myself enough to take a leap of faith and start the process. I knew that I had to trust that everything would be alright and that I'd be able to figure out the details along the way.
Despite not having a complete plan, I had enough of a plan to know that leaving was my best option and that I could handle the rest as it came. I chose to trust that things would be ok if I just took the leap of faith and started planning my divorce.
I didn't have every detail mapped out, but I had enough of a plan to know that I had an option to leave and I would figure out the rest as I went along.
One of the things I had to figure out was money. I was a stay-at-home mom; I had not worked for seven years.
When I was preparing for the divorce, I had a therapist whom I loved named Carol. She was my lifeline (and if your finances permit, I highly recommend a therapist). I relied on her strength often.
There were many weeks when I would walk into Carol’s office feeling very beaten down, and she would provide so much encouragement. By the time I left her office, I was ready to face the challenges waiting for me.
One afternoon, I walked into Carol’s office, sat down on her couch, and said, “My husband doesn’t want to pay me child support or alimony.” And to state the obvious, addiction needs money in order to survive.
Carol listened without judgment (because she was wonderful like that), and when I was done, she told me a story about when she got divorced, making the mistake of settling for pennies because she just wanted the divorce done and over with.
I remember thinking, “Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel. I’ll give away almost anything just to get me out of this situation because I don’t want any more conflict. I feel guilty that I’m the one who’s choosing to leave, so I should give him everything that he asked for.” This is what I told her and what I told myself.
I thought she would tell me it was okay, and I was right. And because this was such a difficult, toxic time in my life, I should take whatever he was willing to give me and run.
Instead, she told me exactly what I did not want to hear.
Carol told me that I deserved more and that my kids deserved more. If I settled for less, I would regret it, and this was part of my growth. I needed to learn to ask for what I needed and deserved.
I was so scared. I went through all the reasons why and how she could be wrong or why my situation was different from hers.
Driving home from Carol’s office, my husband at the time called and said, “How much support are you going to ask for? Because I’m not willing to pay you more than this (and he stated the amount). And don’t even think you can get away with a dollar more because it’s not happening.”
I was still processing Carol’s advice. I needed time to work through this and come up with a solid answer that felt right to me.
So what do we do when we’re confronted with something that makes us feel uncomfortable, that we’re not ready to handle, that we need some more space and time to think about?
We create a boundary, and we create distance.
I told him that I needed some time to think about it. I heard what he was saying, understood where he was coming from, and was not prepared to have this conversation yet. I was very dignified and polite about it, and I hung up the phone because I didn't have to talk about it right then and there.
Why did I think I was on his time schedule? I wasn't, and I had to create my own. I didn’t have to let him boss me around, bully me, or push me into making a verbal commitment that I wasn't ready to make.
In fact, I didn’t even need to answer the phone if I was not in the right space to talk to him.
Out of habit, I think we answer phone calls immediately or respond to a text message or an email because we’re trying to be polite, and we’re thoughtful people. But we reserve the right to take a timeout from our partners. We don't need to respond. We can give ourselves some space.
Halfway home, I said to myself out loud, “I just need a time out.” And I took one. It took weeks to figure out what I was comfortable with.
Do you need a time-out from something or someone? I would love to hear about it.
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Overwhelmed
Ready to split
Weights on my legs
Keep promising my teenagers we are moving
But haven't gone
Guilt sadness keeps me
Thank you for putting my feelings into words. It's great to know others face the same challenges and emotions.