Not Running On Empty
– © 2008 by Joe Szurszewski

It's an all-too-common scene. One spouse surprises the other with the news that he or she wants a divorce. The effect is devastating, and the surprised spouse can't understand what's happening or why. Statistically speaking, the spouse getting the shattering news is much more likely to be the husband. The utter shock and crushing pain guys feel upon hearing the news is evident in the words they use to describe their emotions: "It felt like a lightning strike", "I was blindsided" and "It was like getting shot down by a Messerschmitt out of the sun -- I didn't even know there was a problem until the cockpit was on fire and I was bleeding." If you're a man in this situation, what can you do? Is your life over? Are you doomed to an existence of misery, regret and self-loathing? If you remember only three words from this article, make sure it's these three: It gets better. If you don't believe me, that's fine. I didn't believe it either. Just keep it as a possibility at the back of your mind.

My own story goes like this. In the space of 3 weeks, I was diagnosed with and had surgery for cancer; I was diagnosed with a separate disorder that forced me to radically change my diet for the rest of my life; and my wife of 18 years, whom I loved dearly, told me while I was still recovering from surgery that she no longer loved me, she was moving in with another man, and she wanted a divorce. If anyone could feel just justified in thinking his world had just imploded, it had to be me. It wasn't just that I felt my life was over - I knew with complete and absolute certainty that I couldn't survive the excruciating despair I felt. I reacted angrily to friends and family who told me that I would eventually get over it. If I "got over" it, that somehow cheapened my pain and meant my marriage didn't match the romantic "I would die without you" ideal of love so prevalent in our culture. Or so I thought.

As the months dragged by, I stayed home a lot and cried. I felt sorry for myself and wondered what the next tragedy was going to be. Would I get hit by a bus? Or lose my eyesight and not be able to continue working as a photographer? Maybe my cancer would recur and put me out of my misery. Occasionally, however, I caught myself laughing or enjoying some simple pleasure. I tried to tell myself this wasn't appropriate for someone in my situation, but I couldn't stamp out all the random enjoyment in life. And fortunately so -- isn't happiness, whatever its origins, just as valid an emotion as the vast emptiness I felt? Yet at the time, it just felt wrong.

Slowly -- so slowly I didn't realize it -- I began taking small steps back to health. I found a divorce support group at the Men's Center and discovered I was far from alone. I saw a therapist who helped me realize that I could either drive myself crazy trying to change what I could not change, or I could work on adapting to my new circumstances. And I did a lot of thinking. I thought about my part in the end of my marriage. I thought about the unfairness of what had happened. And I thought about my future. Eventually, I reached an astonishing conclusion: I was getting over it. No one was more surprised than I. It was slow, painful, and often felt like 99 steps backward for 100 steps forward, but it was getting better. Somehow, despite myself, I was getting better. I felt like a pilot who runs out of fuel at 40,000 feet, only to discover he has a reserve tank he didn't even know existed. I firmly believe that everybody has such an emotional reserve tank, a kind of natural instinct for emotional health that kicks in when it's needed the most.

Even better, I realized I could actively nurture this natural instinct. In other words, I could add extra fuel to the tank, even in midair. I could do this by being gentle with myself and not holding myself to some ridiculous cultural standard that prohibits men from expressing feelings, particularly feelings of sadness and loss. I could get out of my house and engage in activities whose only purpose was to cheer me up. Rather than let my sadness and loneliness dictate my behavior, valid feelings though they were, I could do things that generated happier, more affirming feelings. In short, I began to act and feel like an independent person in my own right, not reliant on someone else to give meaning and joy to my existence.

In a short article like this, I can't hope to cover the depth and breadth of issues guys face when surprised by divorce. Every man's story is different. But the feelings we experience because of divorce and separation are remarkably consistent, and giving voice to them in front of guys who know how you feel can be nothing short of healing. So think about stopping by the divorce and uncoupling support group at the Men's Center. Give yourself permission to seek out other resources and support. And remember, it gets better.

Joe Szurszewski is a new Men's Center member and was recently elected to the Board.