I studied and analyzed a lot of literature in college, and I came to realize in these mid-to later years of life that I learn best and with deeper understanding through parable and allegory. This literary inclination, in many ways, saved my life after my husband decided our marriage was over.
My divorce shook my world and kept me reeling for a very long time. I was hashing and re-hashing constantly; what exactly happened? What could I have done differently? was it really my fault? I had relentlessly been told that I was to blame. I could not break free of these thought loops in my brain. I was still so reactive to every accusatory, angry email and text message he sent.
Towards the end of our 20-plus year marriage I was not happy. Once he left, I felt a calm freedom knowing the dread I had felt every night -- would it be the angry person or the calm one who would turn his key in the lock -- was gone. But still, I couldn't move on. I was stuck desperately trying to understand and change the past. That is until I mentally re-wrote the script of my marriage by accepting these 5 allegories:
1.The Wizard of Oz Perhaps you were married to someone like this -- an outwardly formidable person who needs to be in control and to have final say. He fights hard to believe his own delusion -- that he is imposing and right. You learned to tiptoe around him to avoid a fight, and to let him be infallible. But it is all bravado on his part -- it stems from fear and an actual sense of powerlessness. Until you pull back the curtain and see the "small" man desperately working the illusion, you cannot be in control of your own destiny -- you give him power over you. Although the wizard demands that you, "pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," you must, in order to see him for who he really is and to move on with your life.
2.The Golem You are most likely familiar with the psychological term projection: It's "a defense mechanism that involves taking our own unacceptable qualities or feelings and ascribing them to other people." Often, we, the spouses, serve as our ex's projections. The Jewish legend of the Golem is a good analogy. The Golem was a manmade creature whose role it was to serve and protect, and destroy the enemies of its creator. If you were like me, your ex fashioned you into his golem. Imagine you were a sentry standing guard, there to shield him from his innermost feelings of inadequacy, his "enemies"-- if he was not happy in the marriage, it was your fault; if something went wrong, it was your slip-up; if his life was not measuring up to what he had hoped for, you were somehow culpable. You were this being that served as the root of his life's disappointments. In legend, the Golem eventually becomes unmanageable and turns on its master -- It has taken me a very long time to, in fact, become "unmanageable" and breakaway from this self-imposed incarceration.
3.The Doppelganger Maybe you can relate -- I have a Doppelganger. There is me, the person who I know myself to be -- loving mother, caring daughter and sister, devoted friend and benevolent human being -- and then the "double-walker", also known as the evil twin. This other me is apparently; "on an entitled horse", "a selfish b**ch," and "f**ked up," and my ex has her walking around in this world. I know I shouldn't care, but I do. It unnerves me that he has constructed this malicious persona -- that there are people who hear about me, or see me or meet me, and they are filled with my ex's distortions. But, I am beginning to grasp that I have to let her be, my Doppelganger -- for she walks in his world, not mine.
4.Stockholm Syndrome The ex was angry, controlling -- a bully. It may be you were or are married to someone like this. So why do we stay? Why do we forgive the browbeating and yelling and blaming and still "love" them? And why are we still hooked in? I use the concept of Stockholm Syndrome to understand it. The dictionary definition is, "an emotional attachment to a captor formed by a hostage as a result of continuous stress, dependence and a need to cooperate for survival."
Okay, that's a little strong. We aren't actually held captive; I personally did not fear for my survival. But the essence is right on. The stress is pretty persistent because we never know when to expect an outburst -- "Did I do something wrong? Did I forget something? Did I not pay enough attention?" So we work really hard to avoid any discord. We are constantly walking on eggshells. Combine that with the incredible relief when our spouse does not get triggered and hostility is avoided, or when there are small acts of kindness and care. Then we are profoundly grateful to be treated well. This intermittent reinforcement keeps us both vigilant and hooked. What happens is that we become so invested in trying to maintain the good parts of the relationship that all our energy becomes relentlessly focused on just getting through the day without rancor. So we stay, and keep feeding the problem.
5.There's a Hole in My Sidewalk Perhaps you are familiar with this poem, Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson -- if not, it's something of a redeemer. *
"I
I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost . . . I am helpless. It isn't my fault . . . It takes forever to find a way out.
II
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in this same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
III
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it there. I still fall . . . it's a habit . . . but, my eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
IV
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
V
I walk down another street."
What does this story mean for us -- the divorced or separated? We all embarked on our romantic relationships with beginners' eyes -- we certainly didn't know the degree of difficulties that would lie ahead. We "fell" into our problems, unawares.
The trouble soon began and continued; the anger, bullying, blaming...Yet we made excuses for it, and always, once the enmity had passed, denied, to ourselves, that the behavior was out of the ordinary. We traveled back down the same street, falling into the same hole, over and over. In time, we became fully stuck in our patterns -- they became a vice and a vise, "If I just explain myself the right way he'll understand and won't be so angry", "Maybe I did do something wrong". We deluded ourselves into thinking we had the power to change the outcome. We continued to walk right into the hole with our eyes wide open.
Until...until it dawns on us -- we realize, "That is him, those are his rules. I don't have to abide by them." We have learned to walk around the deep hole.
Why then do we choose to walk down that same street once we are aware of the dangers? We do it because we feel more comfortable with the perils that we know than the perils imagined. There is a commonly told story that old navigational maps used to warn about unchartered territories with the words, "There be dragons there." When we finally choose to walk down another street it is unchartered territory -- we have to take a great leap of faith, and this is incredibly daunting. This apt quote by writer André Gide really resonates: "One doesn't discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." The new street may be terrifying at first, but in time, it will become known.
*Nelson, Portia. There's a Hole in My sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery. Beyond Words Publishing Company, 1994. ISBN: 0941831876
http://excommunique.com/