Healthy Alone?

About 3 months ago, I broke off a six year relationship, including a two-year engagement.

He was a genuinely nice guy, caring, and generous in helping my kids through college. And yet, I was unhappy. We didn’t fight. We didn’t bicker. We lived in separate residences. The problem was, though, that I didn’t exist in the relationship. He liked golf, we played golf. He liked casinos, we went to casinos. He liked certain restaurants, we went to those restaurants. He didn’t want physical intimacy, so we were celibate in 4 of our 6 years together. My interests; bookstores, museums, dancing – nah. He volunteered for many veterans organizations. I tried to be supportive. I attended conventions – where I knew no one. I volunteered for a committee he chaired, got little acknowledgement for my efforts. I visited his elderly mom in a nursing home several times a week (what an amazing lady!), and spent the day with her as she was dying. And yet I was closed out of his grief, could not share mine when she passed.

His every day seemed a self-imposed challenge of micromanagement, routine, and perceived imposition. By the end, I was miserable every time I talked to him.

So, it was time to be healthy and happy – alone.

I will not marry again. I have no interest in getting into another doomed relationship, casual or otherwise. I’ve been divorced three times, followed by two failed 5+ year relationships.

So I will be alone. And I have written before about being “Alone, not lonely”. I have rewarding and fulfilling relationships at work, two fantastic young adult kids (ages 19 & 21). I have a brother, and a semi-relationship with my parents.

And for me, that will have to be enough.

Enforcing Detachment

Somehow, March has turned into August. Days have become weeks, and weeks became months; spring has become summer, and now it is time to order firewood again. A challenging summer for my bipolar symptoms – I’ll leave it at that. But a recent dilemma has brought me back to ‘the blog’, and I am grateful.

I’ve written about toxic people before, in my “Face Value and Zero Expectations” post. I have worked hard to detach from some people, and to limit my expectations from others. With a HUGE Irish Catholic family from South Boston; aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, spouses, children of cousins…. I have no idea. Easily over 100 people. They’re not bad people. Many of them are wonderful people. But with that many, there seems to be a constant stream of reunions, weddings, and funerals. Especially funerals. We Irish Catholics are GREAT at funerals.

Facebook is a great media, but it’s not always beneficial. There are recent studies that people artificially inflate the pleasure and joy in their lives in their posts on facebook, which leads readers to feel discouraged about the lack of pleasure and joy in their own lives. A Gordian knot. So, I check in on facebook from time to time, but not regularly. My mother, however, in her mid-60’s, is an avid fan of facebook. And she feels it necessary to tag me in everything, including photos of people I don’t know, and events I don’t care about. Multiple times. Daily. Ugh.

With all due respect to my mother, we were not ever close. We have never had a warm, loving relationship for a gazillion reasons that don’t really matter here. But, over time, I have learned to detach. I have learned to not need anything from her, especially emotionally. We rarely spend time together for more than a few hours monthly, and I have not traveled to her home in over three years. We speak on the phone rarely, mostly about the weather. And I am quite comfortable with where things stand.

So, to the point. At a cousin’s recent wedding (which I did not attend), a sort-of relative (whom we had not seen in thirty years), commented to my mother that she should spend more time with me. She lost it. Tears, Angst, Drama. She had to leave the wedding early, sent me a long message (on facebook, of course) about all the reasons she is busy and doing her best, and called me to tell me about it and her message on facebook. I read the message. And I was angry. Not that the person said anything wrong. If anything, that person was more right about my mothers and my relationship than they had any idea. I was angry because the person had made an off-the-cuff comment to my mother, and I was being left holding the bag of putting her back together. My main thought was “Dear God, she is going to want to spend the weekend here…” Nope. Not gonna happen.

I said something noncommittal and platonic to my mother, and she seemed to calm down. Then I sent a note to the instigator, telling them that my relationship with her was none of their business, and to keep their opinion to themselves.

Does the instigator deserve to be shut down? Probably not, he was pretty accurate. Am I invested in developing a warm and fuzzy relationship with my mother based on her guilt from being called out? Nope. We’re just going to keep talking about the weather.

Holding the Door Open

“People come into our lives for a reason, for a season, or for a lifetime.”  I don’t know who authored it, but it is so accurate.

My bipolar, my breakdowns, my inability to purse my career, and all the associated complications have tested the relationships in my life.  I have lost acquaintances and work friends after leaving my jobs. I have lost life-long friends, who have been unable to bear my continual ups and downs of the past ten years. I have lost lovers and husbands.  I have been distanced from family.

And some of those relationships are, quite simply, gone. There are people who I have loved and lost, and I have grieved that loss and then moved forward.

But for one – one very important person, I have waited.  There was no animosity in the decline of our relationship.  We just separated a very long time ago, and never learned to know one another.

I was not in a position to remove the physical distance between us.  There were reasons that I could not involve him or keep him informed about my own struggles.  And he had his own struggles to grow through.

But I held the door open.  Cards and small gifts sent at the holidays.  The very rare e-mail and text, not asking, but presenting.  Presenting wishes of luck, reminding him of the presence of love, and reminders to be safe in his dangerous profession.  Not pushy, not mushy.  Just quietly being present for the day that he might reach out.

Words can not explain my absolute gratitude and joy the day that he agreed to come visit for an event involving my son.  In 26 years, it was the first offer to visit that he willingly accepted.

He came.  We talked.  We laughed.  No heavy-duty reminiscing, no assignations of blame.  We enjoyed being together in the now.

I promised him that I would not get mushy.  But when I hugged him tight at the end of the evening, he hugged me back.

I am so grateful.

Face Value and Zero Expectations

We all have toxic people in our lives.  In-laws, ex-es, family members, co-workers, and even some friends can bring a level of toxicity into our relationships.  People like this use strategies to take up our time, deplete our energy, and keep themselves as a focus by either seeking attention or seeking to engage us in conflict.

Snide comments, backhanded compliments that are actually insults, manipulation, unclear communication that deliberately leaves us unsure of their meaning, passive aggressive actions, or even deliberate meanness are some of the tools in their boxes.

The strategies that a toxic person utilizes can leave us, the recipient, emotionally activated.  They leave us wondering “what just happened?’  “What did that mean?” “Did I really hear what I thought I heard?”  Confusion can be the best result of an interaction with a toxic person.  Further results can be anger, resentment, feeling insulted, or feeling that we, as the recipient, have done something wrong.

A toxic person can drain us emotionally.  Trying to understand the meaning behind the words, the actual occurrence that led to us being blamed, attempting to develop strategies to deal with the person, gain their favor, or maintain a relationship, is exhausting.

Trying to deal rationally with an irrational person can be crazy-making.

So, de-fuse their strategies.  Refuse to be engaged at a crazy-making level.  Keep it simple.  Hear only the actual words that come out of their mouth.  Take everything at face value, and stop trying to interpret and figure out the hidden meanings.  If what came out of their mouth was unclear but important, ask the clarifying questions without  getting sucked into an argument.  If what came out of their mouth was a loaded statement intended to create an argument, ignore it.  If what came out of their mouth was unclear and unimportant, forget about it.  Don’t bother.

Sounds easy, but it is hard.  It is a habit, and a habit needs to be developed over time. Toxic people in our lives have rubbed our emotional skin raw during the course of our relationships, and when they continue to poke at our raw skin, it is our instinct to react.  But don’t react.  Fake it until you make it.  Paste a smile on your face, let the words roll off your back, and act on only the actual words that come out of their mouths.

The second de-fusing tool that works in conjunction with face value is zero expectations.  The quickest way for someone to light our fuse and engage us in frustration, anger, and conflict is by them repeatedly not meeting our expectations.  We are not talking a one-time memory lapse.  We are talking about patterns, passive-aggressive patterns of people deliberately not meeting our stated needs.  Whether because they are teaching us that we are unimportant, that our needs have no value, or to engage us in conflict, their actions can be infuriating.  Paying the bills, following through on appointments, making plans and keeping them are reasonable expectations to have of a reasonable person.

Toxic people are not reasonable.  Missing appointments, losing checkbooks, changing plans, inappropriate social behaviors, and creating crises are methods  by which they can induce an emotional response from us.  We must remove ourselves from their power.  They can not create a response of anger, frustration, and disappointment from us if we have no expectations of them.  We create this by developing an attitude of Zero Expectations.   Now, if this is a spouse, there are additional problems.  But as far as in-laws, ex-es, and some friends, remove the expectations.  De-fuse our own responses of anger or disappointment by not relying on them.

When we have successfully learned the habit of taking things only at face value, and of having zero expectations, it will be much more difficult for a toxic person to push our buttons.  And, if we have developed the face value and zero expectation skills, it helps us to step back far enough from a toxic person to choose whether or not to continue our relationship with them.  We have taken our power out of their hands, and given it back to ourselves.

Regret, not resent

There have been many different periods of triumph, and tragedy, in the past twenty years of my life.  I have loved, and lost love.  I have achieved a graduate degree, and have had to leave a career.  I have been married, and been divorced.  And always, always, I have worked hard to make the right decisions, the ones that would cause me the least amount of regret in looking back.

BiPolar has played a part in many aspects of my life.  Diagnosed nearly ten years ago, with several breakdowns and two divorces under my belt, I hated my disorder.  I raged against it.  I did (and still sometimes do) hate the idea of having to take medications daily for the rest of my life.  I blamed it for the failure of a marriage, for the loss of a career that I loved, and for my inability to trust those close to me. I hated the depressive lows that diminished my ability to be an active part of my kids’ life. I hated the manic highs that brought about financial difficulty and unstable romantic relationships.

But anger and resentment did not help.  The anger did not resolve anything, did not make anything better. The anger kept me in a state of blaming, instead of a state of repairing.

Regret is unavoidable.  Though I have made the best decisions that I was capable of making, though I tried to avoid having regrets, I do, still, have regrets.  I have dozens of “I wish…”.  Dozens of “If only….” .

My regrets now, are gentle waves of sadness that come periodically.  There are things in my life that I regret.  There are behaviors in my past that I regret.  Decisions I made that I regret. There are people in my past, unable to cope with my mood swings, that I miss terribly.

I can repair only what is in my power.  I can only change the decisions I am making in my present.

Though I cannot avoid regret, I can choose not to resent.  Not to resent the loved ones who left me, whether due to my bipolar behavior, or due to their own limits.  Not to resent my illness for sabotaging my career, and destroying relationships.  To resent requires being angry, and being angry takes energy away from healing.  I will continue to make the decisions that I believe will cause the least amount of regrets for me and those who I love.  And when the regrets come, as they will, I will acknowledge them, miss what is gone, and continue moving in the present toward the future.

Stop “Should-ing” on me!

Learning to balance the demands of one’s own daily life is sometimes difficult. Setting priorities, making decisions, and completing tasks can be a daily challenge.  When the deep depression of BiPolar strikes, it is a monumental effort to complete the simplest chore.  When the high of mania or hypomania hits, it is nearly impossible to focus on one task long enough to complete it.  So the best measure of getting through the day is simply doing what one is able to do.

Well-meaning friends, or overly-critical controlling participants in one’s life can truly complicate the ‘getting-through-the day” process.

With the best of intentions, the well-meaning suggest activities, which one does not have the energy for.  They recommend processes that are overwhelming.  They attempt to bring one to recognize or make insights into patterns that are beyond the scope of vision one has at the time.

The less-well-meaning participants in one’s life do the same types of things, but with the intention of controlling, demeaning, isolating, or belittling. They recommend doing more, doing better, and doing things their way.  They may say they intend to help, and at times they may be believable.  But in the long rung, their suggestions are made in order to benefit themselves.

In both scenarios, whether coming from from a well-meaning friend, or an overly-controlling partner, the damning word is “should”.

“You should do….”  “You should try….”  You should do it this way…”  “You should improve…”  “You should do more…”

And the harder ‘should’ trap is the one we set for ourselves.  When we began to “should” on ourselves, most of the time we are actually devaluing what we have done or how we have done it.  “I should do more”, “I should have done it better”, “I should have done that (other task)”. We forget to acknowledge what we have accomplished in the light of what we have not.

But the secret to killing those “shoulds” is this:  remembering who we are, celebrating what we have accomplished, and giving ourselves praise and permission to do things the way we choose to do them.

So, I vow to tell all;  the well-meaning, the controlling, and myself; “Stop should-ing on me!’

Alone, not lonely

Through fifteen years of split parenting and shared residence of the kids, I learned to be alone three days of the week.  The first years were the hardest.  I had to learn to give myself permission to feel more than sadness when they were with their father.  I had to learn that I could enjoy my time while they were gone without feeling guilty.  It was not easy.  When a divorce ended my romantic relationship, and a breakdown ended my ability to work, the prospect of three days completely alone was daunting.

I struggled with loneliness.  I threw myself into four part-time jobs to keep from having to be home alone, and to face the silence in the house.  I leaped into another doomed relationship, sold a house, bought a house, and got to the point of having a second breakdown with a suicide attempt.  It was an ugly time.

With time and help, I finally understood that I was making irrational decisions in my desperation not to be alone with myself.  I was afraid of the racing thoughts, the painful recollections of unhealthy actions in my past, and the utter stillness and silence that I found so suffocating.

I now cherish my time alone.  I can listen to the silence without racing to fill it with TV, or even radio.  I have tried hard to forgive myself for mistakes I have made, and to become a friend to myself.  I actually now get cranky if I don’t get some alone time each day.  Facing myself in the mirror, acknowledging what went wrong in the past, and forgiving myself for certain decisions seemed to be the key for me.

I can enjoy being alone without being lonely.