The anger after a separation or divorce can eat you alive. The rage is much worse than the pain. You can cry to relieve the pain, but rage just sits there and festers, making your life hell. The worst thing about rage is that it tends to transmute into other, more destructive emotions and behaviors. Rage turned inward becomes self-hate. Women tend to turn their anger on themselves and sink into depression, a truly self-destructive way to deal with divorce. Rage turned outward becomes nastiness to those around you who did nothing to deserve it, such as your co-workers or children. Rage acted out is dangerous. Think O. J. Simpson. It becomes stalking and sometimes murder, which is mostly male behavior, but women scorned also stalk and are not immune from homicidal action.
So what to do with all that rage? Because I’m a writer, I wrote long, vituperative e-mails to my ex. Everyone will tell you not to send them, and maybe you won’t need to. But if you don’t, you won’t get the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve finally said the very thing to him that you’ve wanted to say all these years and he’s read it (unless he hits the DELETE key when he sees your e-mail address).
I did have one rule: Never hit the SEND key after midnight. Those wee-hours e-mails are likely to get you in trouble. I have sent many over-the-top e-mails late at night that I later regretted when I read them the next morning. Wait until the next day, read the e-mail, and then send it if it still sounds rational. Also make sure you delete anything that can be used against you in court. Other than that, fire away.
Here are some other ideas.
Keep A How Do I Hate Thee, Let Me Count The Ways Journal
Don’t hesitate to get really ridiculous.
Write A “letter To Harry”
Susan Becker, a contributor to Cut Loose: (Mostly) Older Women Talk About the End of (Mostly) Long-Term Relationships, edited by Nan Bauer-Maglin, wrote a series of e-mails to her ex, which she called the X-files. (She didn’t send them, however.) These are models of rapier-sharp wit that cracked me up.
These e-mails are dedicated to Harry, my partner and mentor of thirty years, who taught me everything about life I would rather not have known. First there is nothing more important than money and power. (I’m not so clear about the order here. I think Harry would find this a tough call.) Second, there is nothing so sacred we can’t joke about it. Third, and more important, you should aim with great precision, right below the belt. Thanks, honey.
Dear Harry,
I know that this thank-you note is a little belated, but I was just looking down at the bracelet you bought me only a few months before you dumped me. It was rather amusing, because a close friend (whose name will go unmentioned because you know how I hate gossip) received a similar bracelet from Tiffany’s from her husband when he was having an affair a few years back. What can I say? Great minds think alike. Anyway I was thinking to myself how much I adore this bracelet. You always did have excellent taste. And I want you to know that I wear it every day, even though some of my friends think it’s a bit weird since you later confided that you bought the same bracelet for your “twinkie.” Did you get a bulk discount? Since it is the only piece of jewelry that you didn’t ask to have returned, I also like to think it has some sentimental value. My booby prize so to speak . . . However, the real reason I love wearing this bracelet is that it reminds me I am a survivor, one of the walking wounded, a dumped, middle-aged woman, cut loose in the prime of life. And although you always found me pretty hard to take in this regard, I believe in calling a spade a spade. So tell me Harry, does your twinkie wear her bracelet every day like I do? I hope she appreciates your elegant taste as much as I always did. By the by, does she know you bought one for me? I am worried that we might wind up at some family function like our kid’s wedding wearing our matching bracelets, and it could be embarrassing for everyone.
Sensitively yours, as always, Susie
Anita Liberty wrote a book about her ex titled How to Heal the Hurt by Hating (Villard, 2006). This poem gave me a good laugh.
Smile
“Lighten up.”
“Be happy.”
“Why the frown?”
“Smile! It’s a beautiful day!”
OH SHUT UP
I worked hard to find the darkest mood I could.
I won’t give it up that easy.
And you—with your cheer-ups
smiles
behappies
you just gave me another reason to stay there
The letters to Harry and this poem by Anita Liberty are pretty juvenile stuff for mature women like us, but hey, anything that gives you a chuckle at this stage of divorce recovery is permissible. Black humor was invented for occasions like divorce—anyone who’s seen War of the Roses can appreciate that observation (rent this movie if you haven’t seen it).
Write A Good-Bye Letter
This letter is for your own benefit. It’s extremely cathartic to write down every little—and big—thing about your husband and your marriage that you’re saying good-bye to, good things as well as bad. Mail it or not, however the spirit moves you. Here’s mine, for an example:
Good-bye to:
The vegetable garden you planted just before you left. You must have known you wouldn’t be here to harvest the veggies.
The lawn mower you managed to break and refused to replace when you came over to mow the lawn after you left. Now I have to pay someone to mow the lawn.
Good-bye to:
My best friend. Despite everything that was missing from our marriage, we were a family, and you cared about me—or I thought you did.
Good-bye to:
Talking about the things we both enjoyed, like Northern Exposure, Citizen Kane, folk music, and MGM musicals.
Bob Dylan, your favorite singer who you got me to appreciate. It’s too painful for me to listen to him anymore.
Good-bye to:
Someone to worry when I’m sick or in the hospital, to bring me chicken soup when I have a cold, to take me to doctor’s appointments and bring me home.
Being the most important person in someone else’s life.
Sharing my day-to-day life with someone who cared.
Good-bye to:
Having to walk on eggs for fear you would blow up at me.
Your constant criticism of things like my talking too loud, or embarrassing you, or wanting to move to a better table in a restaurant.
Your backseat driving—God, did I hate that.
Your passive-aggressive way of promising you would do things and then “forgetting.” Or doing them so badly that I’d do them myself.
The way you’d lie to me just to get off the hook.
Your need to be taken care of, your inability to do anything for yourself.
Your lack of integrity in cheating on me and leaving me for another, younger mommy.
Your insistence on drawing me into your obsessive-compulsive worrying.
Having to turn out the light in bed when you wanted to go to sleep.
Having sex when I didn’t feel like it.
My inheritance, which we managed to spend, and which I would have saved if I knew you were going to leave.
Good-bye to the future we were making for us and our daughter.
Good-bye to my future as a married woman—part of a couple. I really liked being married.
Good-bye to loving you. I needed you to not feel lonely, even though I felt lonely a lot of the time we were together. I loved you because you really were my best friend. That is the worst loss.
Start Journaling
The journaling technique that works for me involves sitting in a quiet place and just writing your feelings without stopping for at least twenty minutes. The secret to journaling as a way to heal is to write unself-consciously, letting your feelings flow on the page without re-reading what you’ve written or worrying about anyone else reading it. You will find when you finish that you have uncovered feelings you never knew you had, and will experience a sense of relief. If you want to keep an online journal and get comments and input from other divorced folks, post it at www.divorce360.com. It’s a great site for divorce support as well.
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