Getting unstuck and dealing with the grief

[VIDEO: "What is parental alienation?"]

Not sure where to start, but I need to share how I’m feeling with someone.

I posted a while back on the conflicted board, when I was still trying to figure out what to do about my marriage. I was with my wife for a total of seven years with some long breaks in between due to visa issues, COVID and conflicts between us. She was diagnosed with BPD a few years ago, which I think with hindsight worsened our issues. Even if it finally gave me a sort of explanation for many of the things I was experiencing with her.

Last summer she tried treatment, but it didn't improve things. I chose to leave in the beginning of March. Lots of drama involved. It’s awful seeing someone you love like that, especially when it's your choice causing it. I just couldn’t do it anymore. The conflicts, the stress, constantly feeling on guard about when the next bomb goes off. I lost my job about six months earlier, which only made things worse between us. We built up too much resentment and contempt for each other in the end. It makes me really sad to think about it now. That we couldn’t do better by each other with everything we shared and knew about the other person.

I’ve struggled a lot to process that I had actually left her. I still do.  In moments it feels like a hallucination almost. I’ll be in a supermarket looking down the aisle, and this state of mind comes over me, where I feel like I’m connected to some parallel version of myself, who is still there with her. Like I’m here, scouting for the cereal section, but I’m also sitting in our old apartment imagining the whole thing. As if my current reality is really the daydream of some other version of myself that didn’t leave her yet.

Experiences like that are happening less now, but some days, like today, the grief of losing her just takes over everything inside. It feels like a tidal wave of it rolling in, crashing down, dragging me under. At the same time, I’m so angry with myself, with her, and my family. I feel like I’m cycling endlessly through the grief stages.
It must be so amazing to have family and close friends with empathy and patience for this, but I don’t have so much of that. It feels like I’m stuck dealing with it myself, or just forced to engage with people who don’t understand. It’s like they’re from another planet, especially my family. Like we only deal with the bad stuff on the surface level. Sure, you can discuss the tactics of it, but don’t linger on things. You have to accept it and move on.

I’m trying to help myself and focus on other things. I started running, doing some basic work out, and signed up for a kind of mental coaching program. It actually has helped at times – though I feel myself rejecting it, especially when the grief is strong like it is today. I try to read, listen to audio books, podcasts, the news, watch sports. Things that have felt meaningful to me in the past. I try to engage the friends I still have, though it’s really hard for me to openly share the deeper stuff, like the sadness and shame of being alone again. Being openly vulnerable with others is really hard for me.

I just feel like I’m drifting. No real direction in life, because I made *her* the core of my life, but she is gone now. There are flickers of light here and there, but whenever I see a path that might have some merit, the next day it seems so bleak again, and I’m back at a crossroads. I just can’t get really engaged with or commit to anything.

Some days I want to do something drastic like leaving everything behind. I don’t know what I want to do, or where I need to go in order to find some happiness and meaning in life again. For the last seven years my project and purpose in life was…us. Our future. Fighting the immigration system to even be together to begin with, then fighting her demons, my demons, eventually our demons, only to have to retreat in the end with nothing to show for it. Did I learn something about myself? Maybe, but right now it doesn’t seem like something I can build on. I’m just sitting in the middle of nowhere at my moms’ place, waiting to move into an apartment a few months from now.

I try to be kinder to myself, try to accept where I am now. But all this uncertainty stresses me so much. I have a lot of nightmares, self-doubt and anxiety, crowded thoughts. I keep wanting to bolt the door shut and disappear into myself completely, but I also want to believe in a new life. It’s really difficult to imagine myself being happy without her, even when I know that I wasn’t happy with her. But maybe I could have been if I had been gentler and more patient with her? Could I have communicated differently with her, and would it have made her feel safe?

I know I got stuck in this relationship partly because it helped me to escape the loneliness and lack of purpose I have struggled with for years. I think I’ve accepted that by now. But I think I also really did love her, and truly connected with her. We shared so much with one another, and I just wish there was a path we could still walk together. So I could still have that in my life. I find myself idealizing the intimacy and love we had, but a lot of it was real too. What if I never find that again? What if that was my one chance for someone and something like that?

I want to believe that there is a place for me down the line, where I’m free of this need for her, happy in my own company and feel purpose again. But I’m also afraid to lose the connection. Every step in the process that brings the end closer is so hard to take.

Last week she wrote to me, basically asking me to leave her most of our stuff when I move out, because, well, she truly hopes I understand how much worse off she is than me. Seeming to be completely out of touch with how it impacts me that she seems to think that the gifts we got for our wedding, mainly from my family even, should just go automatically to her.  And then today she sent me a nice message out of the blue, when we had agreed to minimize contact. Maybe no contact at all really is the best option, when I finally move my things out. I had hoped that in time we could still be friends, but maybe it’s not possible. Or a mistake even.

In some ways I feel like my issues have moved beyond the purpose of these boards, but I don’t know where else to go. I feel like I’m just facing so much upheaval at the moment.

How do you deal with this kind of grief? I feel I get stuck trying to process it, like doing so swallows me up. But I also don’t want to repress or ignore it. I have no idea if I’m moving forwards here or not. Where do I find the balance in this, and how do I keep my bearings when I can’t find them inside myself at all?

Does the difficulty of opening up and being vulnerable resonate with anyone, especially in the context of a family that tends to steer clear of talking about emotional difficulties? I feel like a lot of my struggles to do so are rooted in my family environment. But I don’t have any obvious places to turn for help instead.

Maybe it sounds weird, but has anyone successfully checked out of "normal" society for a while in order to help process something, gain some perspective or something like that? I’m not looking to join a cult or anything, but I do wonder if it could help me to forget myself in a community project or something like that for a time.

[Stuckinhope]

Not sure where to start, but I need to share how I’m feeling with someone.

I posted a while back on the conflicted board, when I was still trying to figure out what to do about my marriage. I was with my wife for a total of seven years with some long breaks in between due to visa issues, COVID and conflicts between us. She was diagnosed with BPD a few years ago, which I think with hindsight worsened our issues. Even if it finally gave me a sort of explanation for many of the things I was experiencing with her.

Last summer she tried treatment, but it didn't improve things. I chose to leave in the beginning of March. Lots of drama involved. It’s awful seeing someone you love like that, especially when it's your choice causing it. I just couldn’t do it anymore. The conflicts, the stress, constantly feeling on guard about when the next bomb goes off. I lost my job about six months earlier, which only made things worse between us. We built up too much resentment and contempt for each other in the end. It makes me really sad to think about it now. That we couldn’t do better by each other with everything we shared and knew about the other person.

I’ve struggled a lot to process that I had actually left her. I still do.  In moments it feels like a hallucination almost. I’ll be in a supermarket looking down the aisle, and this state of mind comes over me, where I feel like I’m connected to some parallel version of myself, who is still there with her. Like I’m here, scouting for the cereal section, but I’m also sitting in our old apartment imagining the whole thing. As if my current reality is really the daydream of some other version of myself that didn’t leave her yet.

Experiences like that are happening less now, but some days, like today, the grief of losing her just takes over everything inside. It feels like a tidal wave of it rolling in, crashing down, dragging me under. At the same time, I’m so angry with myself, with her, and my family. I feel like I’m cycling endlessly through the grief stages.
It must be so amazing to have family and close friends with empathy and patience for this, but I don’t have so much of that. It feels like I’m stuck dealing with it myself, or just forced to engage with people who don’t understand. It’s like they’re from another planet, especially my family. Like we only deal with the bad stuff on the surface level. Sure, you can discuss the tactics of it, but don’t linger on things. You have to accept it and move on.

I’m trying to help myself and focus on other things. I started running, doing some basic work out, and signed up for a kind of mental coaching program. It actually has helped at times – though I feel myself rejecting it, especially when the grief is strong like it is today. I try to read, listen to audio books, podcasts, the news, watch sports. Things that have felt meaningful to me in the past. I try to engage the friends I still have, though it’s really hard for me to openly share the deeper stuff, like the sadness and shame of being alone again. Being openly vulnerable with others is really hard for me.

I just feel like I’m drifting. No real direction in life, because I made *her* the core of my life, but she is gone now. There are flickers of light here and there, but whenever I see a path that might have some merit, the next day it seems so bleak again, and I’m back at a crossroads. I just can’t get really engaged with or commit to anything.

Some days I want to do something drastic like leaving everything behind. I don’t know what I want to do, or where I need to go in order to find some happiness and meaning in life again. For the last seven years my project and purpose in life was…us. Our future. Fighting the immigration system to even be together to begin with, then fighting her demons, my demons, eventually our demons, only to have to retreat in the end with nothing to show for it. Did I learn something about myself? Maybe, but right now it doesn’t seem like something I can build on. I’m just sitting in the middle of nowhere at my moms’ place, waiting to move into an apartment a few months from now.

I try to be kinder to myself, try to accept where I am now. But all this uncertainty stresses me so much. I have a lot of nightmares, self-doubt and anxiety, crowded thoughts. I keep wanting to bolt the door shut and disappear into myself completely, but I also want to believe in a new life. It’s really difficult to imagine myself being happy without her, even when I know that I wasn’t happy with her. But maybe I could have been if I had been gentler and more patient with her? Could I have communicated differently with her, and would it have made her feel safe?

I know I got stuck in this relationship partly because it helped me to escape the loneliness and lack of purpose I have struggled with for years. I think I’ve accepted that by now. But I think I also really did love her, and truly connected with her. We shared so much with one another, and I just wish there was a path we could still walk together. So I could still have that in my life. I find myself idealizing the intimacy and love we had, but a lot of it was real too. What if I never find that again? What if that was my one chance for someone and something like that?

I want to believe that there is a place for me down the line, where I’m free of this need for her, happy in my own company and feel purpose again. But I’m also afraid to lose the connection. Every step in the process that brings the end closer is so hard to take.

Last week she wrote to me, basically asking me to leave her most of our stuff when I move out, because, well, she truly hopes I understand how much worse off she is than me. Seeming to be completely out of touch with how it impacts me that she seems to think that the gifts we got for our wedding, mainly from my family even, should just go automatically to her.  And then today she sent me a nice message out of the blue, when we had agreed to minimize contact. Maybe no contact at all really is the best option, when I finally move my things out. I had hoped that in time we could still be friends, but maybe it’s not possible. Or a mistake even.

In some ways I feel like my issues have moved beyond the purpose of these boards, but I don’t know where else to go. I feel like I’m just facing so much upheaval at the moment.

How do you deal with this kind of grief? I feel I get stuck trying to process it, like doing so swallows me up. But I also don’t want to repress or ignore it. I have no idea if I’m moving forwards here or not. Where do I find the balance in this, and how do I keep my bearings when I can’t find them inside myself at all?

Does the difficulty of opening up and being vulnerable resonate with anyone, especially in the context of a family that tends to steer clear of talking about emotional difficulties? I feel like a lot of my struggles to do so are rooted in my family environment. But I don’t have any obvious places to turn for help instead.

Maybe it sounds weird, but has anyone successfully checked out of "normal" society for a while in order to help process something, gain some perspective or something like that? I’m not looking to join a cult or anything, but I do wonder if it could help me to forget myself in a community project or something like that for a time.

[ThanksForPlaying]

I can relate to your description of feeling detached or sometimes out-of-body. Sometimes it feels like I could just make one phone call and jump right back into the BPD relationship (probably because I could).

As for your question - I would suggest trying to embrace the "grey area". The grey area is the part pwBPD have a difficult time with. It's the middle part of life's bell curve. MOST of daily life is "normal" and boring. Sometimes we forget this because a BPD relationship is built on emotional extremes and black and white thinking.

When detaching, life can feel boring and pointless. This is because we've been conditioned to expect the dopamine hits of constant love and anger - both extremes.

Seek out small "boring" experiences - going for a walk or listening to birds chirping. You can actually give yourself a pat on the back for enjoying these little slices of life. PwBPD often can't enjoy these things. Give your brain time to recondition itself and to heal.

I know you've been doing this for some time already. Keep going. Try to recognize the small victories.

I prefer trying to "force" myself to participate in "normal" society, no matter how mundane and boring it may seem on some days... rather than trying to check myself out of society. And then giving myself credit for having done so.

Hang in there.

[Stuckinhope]

Thank you for replying. What you're saying has merit, and on the good days I agree with a lot of it.

Working on staying positive about the small things that actually turn out fine. Appreciating a daily life that isn't derailed by conflict at every turn, enjoying the nature I'm surrounded by out here. I've met up with some friends and coworkers and talked pretty openly about what's happened, and it's been an almost universally positive experience.

The bad days are just...still really bad. I try to recognize the shift from one to the other, and it's like I can kind of see that the change is usually just my own perspective. But the grief, depression, loneliness, lack of purpose or whatever it is that drops that piano on my head still...it's a sinister opponent. And whether it's pride, shame, fear of rejection, a mix of them - it really pushes me to withdraw and isolate. I feel like a burden, if I reach out in a bad moment.

Other people have such a desire to label and fit it into their own framework in my experience. Like, I was emotionally abused, she is disordered, it was good that I left etc. Those things are probably true from an outside point of view, but it hurts when people are quick to label it in that way. It's so much more complex in my mind. I feel like it creates distance. And I also know I can be quick to do it myself. Listening and being receptive to whatever story the other person needs to tell is not so easy.

I don't know, I just really miss her and the spark she gave my to my life. She was so energetic, spontaneous, engaging, silly, childish...so many of the things I struggle with myself. I really admired that in her, even though I know the flip side to the energy that drives it.

And yeah, she struggled to enjoy the quiet moments in life. Connecting with nature, reading a good book, listening. Just like her love was rarely quiet, calm or supportive. It's a good point to keep in mind, while I try to let her go and break the idealizing.

[once removed]

you do sound like youre deep in grief.

there are general guidelines for healthy grieving and unhealthy grieving. you dont sound like youre particularly doing the latter. youre very in touch with your feelings, and youre processing.

a lot of healthy grieving is about maintaining or building new routine. filling that void with new and lasting things, and, to some extent, healthy distractions. it isnt "time" that heals...but it does take time for efforts to take hold, to create new space in our hearts. not unlike a broken bone.

our partners filled our lives with a great deal of both joy and chaos, that can be pretty all encompassing, and when its over, its kind of like a tornado has blown through. where do you even start to rebuild?

but inevitably, you do. in my experience, it was sort of like healing came through hindsight. a month would pass, and id realize i wasnt where i was before. eventually years passed, and it was hard for me to even recognize where i was before. you kind of have to have faith in that, as you endeavor to heal, in order to sustain you. i took it for granted that eventually, i would be okay - even better than okay. all of those months, or even that first year, it never felt like it, if youd asked me at the time, but it was happening nonetheless.

i can appreciate that friends and family arent providing a great deal of emotional support right now. thats hard. there came a point in my recovery where i wasnt really getting that either. they were there for my initial weeping and wailing, but eventually, you run out of things to say and ways to help. when that happens, it can kind of force us to stand on our own. what i found was that connection, any connection, was important. are you able to just spend quality, or even quantity time with the people in your life? theres healing in that: you see the good parts of you reflected back.

but in addition to connection (i leaned really hard on bpdfamily, and id also recommend having a therapist to help you process your grief, if you dont already), one of the best pieces of advice i ever got was to focus on learning new skills. its good to, as youre able, return to the things you love to do, but new ones build confidence, and they can also present new opportunities.

[ThanksForPlaying]

I like the idea of both quality time and quantity time.

For me, I have to work hard to just be around people sometimes. When I'm not around BPD, being around other people feels mundane and pointless sometimes. Us nons are so BORING. But I know my brain will eventually adapt to enjoy non-BPD company again. I just need to give it time.

So sometimes I look at it as just putting in the work to heal. I can force myself to hang out with a friend for an hour - and go through the motions of being happy or at least not anti-social.

Even if it feels like I should be spilling my story or actively talking about my problems, I don't have to do that. I can just BE with a friend. I just need that quantity time. Time to recalibrate. Much like going to the gym for an hour - I'm training myself to be around nons again.

On a related note, I saw a basketball player a couple weeks ago discussing how they always smile during warm-ups to "trick" their brain into producing helpful chemicals. It's an interesting "hack". Try it sometime. Force yourself to smile for 3 minutes and try to feel the actual chemicals being produced. It's pretty wild.

[Stuckinhope]

you do sound like youre deep in grief.

there are general guidelines for healthy grieving and unhealthy grieving. you dont sound like youre particularly doing the latter. youre very in touch with your feelings, and youre processing.

a lot of healthy grieving is about maintaining or building new routine. filling that void with new and lasting things, and, to some extent, healthy distractions. it isnt "time" that heals...but it does take time for efforts to take hold, to create new space in our hearts. not unlike a broken bone.

It feels like I am pretty deep into it. It's like something has shattered inside, and I've just kind of gathered all the little pieces up in bag that I'm dragging aimlessly around now. I know that I left her, and part of me is convinced that I had to. But it doesn't feel like it was an authentic choice? It's like I had to finally flee a burning house, but I also left the part of her that I love behind, while she was still screaming and begging for me not to leave her there.

I didn't think about that image before just now, and it's left me sobbing for about 30 mins. I think I feel a lot of guilt about leaving? She was working on herself, she faced up to so much of it because of me and our relationship...or was trying her best at least. But I couldn't stand by her, while she did it. I just couldn't help her anymore. Maybe this kind of imagery is part of the unhealthy kind of grief, but it feels like it cuts to the core of something going on in me.
 
And now the fact that I can't see or touch her anymore, and that the part of her I loved so much has closed the door on me completely, and there is only the cold and suspicious part of her left that seems to erased all the love we had...it's like I can't bring myself to truly let her go until I get to say goodbye to the other part of her. If I want to say goodbye at all.

I read the stories from people here, I read so much about BPD, I saw lots of videos, and I get it. It's a condition, it's destructive to be around. I was giving myself a chance to survive and build something sustainable by cutting loose. But I just feel so bad about it too, and the hope of finding a way back together eventually is still there. I don't know, it just is. I can't help but punish myself for that thought, because how could you ever accept being threatened with mock suicide attempts? How can I still feel love and longing for someone like that?

I know it's not that simple, and I try to be kind to myself. But that tornado you mentioned seems to have just taken up residence inside now. Sometimes I can sort of locate a calm space inside of it, but a lot of time it's just chaos and things whirling around all over the place.

Maybe you're right. In time I can forgive myself, I can forgive her, and we will both be better off for it. In a way, I also left so maybe that fire could come under control. She has told me afterwards that me leaving has left her in a better place. I don't know how much of that is just talk, but maybe it's true. In that case I guess I helped us both by leaving.

I'm trying to build some helpful routines, and I think you're very right about spending time with people, trying new things and focusing on building new skills. I was toying around with some analysis software last week, and just learning that did give me a bit of a lift and an injection of confidence or hope. It's something to remember at least.

i can appreciate that friends and family arent providing a great deal of emotional support right now. thats hard. there came a point in my recovery where i wasnt really getting that either. they were there for my initial weeping and wailing, but eventually, you run out of things to say and ways to help. when that happens, it can kind of force us to stand on our own

To be honest, I think it's also partly me who isn't giving out so much. Like I said being vulnerable with other people is really hard for me. So crying in front of someone, even close family, feels like it's not allowed for me? I think losing control like that in general is a bit of a taboo, maybe partly because I was always the one who had to understand other people, while growing up. I became the listener, but I when I tried to communicate my own emotions or needs, it was often met with some level of rejection or invalidation.

I didn't see my family dealing with emotions in a more open or raw way (while remaining constructive - there were definitely outbursts), and there was not a lot of physical contact like hugging, holding hands etc. So maybe I can work on being more open too, even though it feels like there are some big obstacles there. Also now that I think about it, a lot of the time when I tried to do that with my wife, she would push back against it, because she couldn't offer the support I needed and she got frustrated. More invalidation.

Honestly, even writing all this now feels like I'm doing something a bit wrong? There is definitely room for improvement here I suppose.

So sometimes I look at it as just putting in the work to heal. I can force myself to hang out with a friend for an hour - and go through the motions of being happy or at least not anti-social.

Even if it feels like I should be spilling my story or actively talking about my problems, I don't have to do that. I can just BE with a friend. I just need that quantity time. Time to recalibrate. Much like going to the gym for an hour - I'm training myself to be around nons again.

I think I know what you mean. It's like I feel obligated to talk about what's going on with all this stuff, offer some kind of self-analysis seeing how I'm so uncomfortable with the more vulnerable side. I do find that just talking to other people about what's going on with them, or spending time doing some kind of activity together can be helpful. Leaving the other stuff aside for a while.

Also I tried to smiling thing before, and it's so true. You can definitely trick the body to think it's feeling happy like that. I feel like the challenge for me is getting caught up in the sadness and almost sipping it like a cocktail. Like I'm a bit addicted to the melancholy and tragedy, and tend to indulge in it. I'm trying to be more mindful of that, and help myself into mixing things up more in order to move forward.

[jaded7]

Not sure where to start, but I need to share how I’m feeling with someone.

I posted a while back on the conflicted board, when I was still trying to figure out what to do about my marriage. I was with my wife for a total of seven years with some long breaks in between due to visa issues, COVID and conflicts between us. She was diagnosed with BPD a few years ago, which I think with hindsight worsened our issues. Even if it finally gave me a sort of explanation for many of the things I was experiencing with her.

Last summer she tried treatment, but it didn't improve things. I chose to leave in the beginning of March. Lots of drama involved. It’s awful seeing someone you love like that, especially when it's your choice causing it. I just couldn’t do it anymore. The conflicts, the stress, constantly feeling on guard about when the next bomb goes off. I lost my job about six months earlier, which only made things worse between us. We built up too much resentment and contempt for each other in the end. It makes me really sad to think about it now. That we couldn’t do better by each other with everything we shared and knew about the other person.

I’ve struggled a lot to process that I had actually left her. I still do.  In moments it feels like a hallucination almost. I’ll be in a supermarket looking down the aisle, and this state of mind comes over me, where I feel like I’m connected to some parallel version of myself, who is still there with her. Like I’m here, scouting for the cereal section, but I’m also sitting in our old apartment imagining the whole thing. As if my current reality is really the daydream of some other version of myself that didn’t leave her yet.

Experiences like that are happening less now, but some days, like today, the grief of losing her just takes over everything inside. It feels like a tidal wave of it rolling in, crashing down, dragging me under. At the same time, I’m so angry with myself, with her, and my family. I feel like I’m cycling endlessly through the grief stages.
It must be so amazing to have family and close friends with empathy and patience for this, but I don’t have so much of that. It feels like I’m stuck dealing with it myself, or just forced to engage with people who don’t understand. It’s like they’re from another planet, especially my family. Like we only deal with the bad stuff on the surface level. Sure, you can discuss the tactics of it, but don’t linger on things. You have to accept it and move on.

I’m trying to help myself and focus on other things. I started running, doing some basic work out, and signed up for a kind of mental coaching program. It actually has helped at times – though I feel myself rejecting it, especially when the grief is strong like it is today. I try to read, listen to audio books, podcasts, the news, watch sports. Things that have felt meaningful to me in the past. I try to engage the friends I still have, though it’s really hard for me to openly share the deeper stuff, like the sadness and shame of being alone again. Being openly vulnerable with others is really hard for me.

I just feel like I’m drifting. No real direction in life, because I made *her* the core of my life, but she is gone now. There are flickers of light here and there, but whenever I see a path that might have some merit, the next day it seems so bleak again, and I’m back at a crossroads. I just can’t get really engaged with or commit to anything.

Some days I want to do something drastic like leaving everything behind. I don’t know what I want to do, or where I need to go in order to find some happiness and meaning in life again. For the last seven years my project and purpose in life was…us. Our future. Fighting the immigration system to even be together to begin with, then fighting her demons, my demons, eventually our demons, only to have to retreat in the end with nothing to show for it. Did I learn something about myself? Maybe, but right now it doesn’t seem like something I can build on. I’m just sitting in the middle of nowhere at my moms’ place, waiting to move into an apartment a few months from now.

I try to be kinder to myself, try to accept where I am now. But all this uncertainty stresses me so much. I have a lot of nightmares, self-doubt and anxiety, crowded thoughts. I keep wanting to bolt the door shut and disappear into myself completely, but I also want to believe in a new life. It’s really difficult to imagine myself being happy without her, even when I know that I wasn’t happy with her. But maybe I could have been if I had been gentler and more patient with her? Could I have communicated differently with her, and would it have made her feel safe?

I know I got stuck in this relationship partly because it helped me to escape the loneliness and lack of purpose I have struggled with for years. I think I’ve accepted that by now. But I think I also really did love her, and truly connected with her. We shared so much with one another, and I just wish there was a path we could still walk together. So I could still have that in my life. I find myself idealizing the intimacy and love we had, but a lot of it was real too. What if I never find that again? What if that was my one chance for someone and something like that?

I want to believe that there is a place for me down the line, where I’m free of this need for her, happy in my own company and feel purpose again. But I’m also afraid to lose the connection. Every step in the process that brings the end closer is so hard to take.

Last week she wrote to me, basically asking me to leave her most of our stuff when I move out, because, well, she truly hopes I understand how much worse off she is than me. Seeming to be completely out of touch with how it impacts me that she seems to think that the gifts we got for our wedding, mainly from my family even, should just go automatically to her.  And then today she sent me a nice message out of the blue, when we had agreed to minimize contact. Maybe no contact at all really is the best option, when I finally move my things out. I had hoped that in time we could still be friends, but maybe it’s not possible. Or a mistake even.

In some ways I feel like my issues have moved beyond the purpose of these boards, but I don’t know where else to go. I feel like I’m just facing so much upheaval at the moment.

How do you deal with this kind of grief? I feel I get stuck trying to process it, like doing so swallows me up. But I also don’t want to repress or ignore it. I have no idea if I’m moving forwards here or not. Where do I find the balance in this, and how do I keep my bearings when I can’t find them inside myself at all?

Does the difficulty of opening up and being vulnerable resonate with anyone, especially in the context of a family that tends to steer clear of talking about emotional difficulties? I feel like a lot of my struggles to do so are rooted in my family environment. But I don’t have any obvious places to turn for help instead.

Maybe it sounds weird, but has anyone successfully checked out of "normal" society for a while in order to help process something, gain some perspective or something like that? I’m not looking to join a cult or anything, but I do wonder if it could help me to forget myself in a community project or something like that for a time.

I'm so sorry you are feeling this way. I'm quite the same. It seems overwhelming at times, and seems to never go away. There are moments, hours even, when I feel hopeful and positive about moving forward. But it's a real struggle.

You write very well about these feelings. That's a gift of being in touch with your emotions.

I've thought about selling my place, getting a van and driving around by myself. Since I can work online, that would be a route I could go. But the thought of leaving town.....were she is.....is too painful for me. Like I'm finally acknowledging what has happened.

I just want to wish you well and thank you for sharing. Even in our lowest moments sharing will be of use to others.

[Stuckinhope]

I'm so sorry you are feeling this way. I'm quite the same. It seems overwhelming at times, and seems to never go away. There are moments, hours even, when I feel hopeful and positive about moving forward. But it's a real struggle.

You write very well about these feelings. That's a gift of being in touch with your emotions.

I've thought about selling my place, getting a van and driving around by myself. Since I can work online, that would be a route I could go. But the thought of leaving town.....were she is.....is too painful for me. Like I'm finally acknowledging what has happened.

I just want to wish you well and thank you for sharing. Even in our lowest moments sharing will be of use to others.

Thank you for your kind words. It helps to read the replies and other stories here, so if someone else can benefit from mine in some way too...well, that's a nice thought. I'm thankful to not be as alone in this as I feel sometimes. I wouldn't wish this kind of breakdown on anyone else, and I'm sorry to hear that you find yourself in a dark place too.

I know what you mean about the emotional shifts. I somtimes think about like being caught in a bad storm at sea. When it's peaking, I feel like all I can do is hide out below deck and strap myself in, praying that things will quiet down before everything is torn apart. It just drains the hope and feeling of agency so much, it's absolutely daunting at times. Even then when I can force myself to take the helm again, it really does do something. Even really small stuff, like doing some yard work yesterday left me feeling better. And the other day, when I was stuck at rock bottom, writing here definitely did help to release something that was stuck in me. I try to remember that, when the crash comes again.

Yesterday and today I feel better. I try to be thankful for that at least and for the lucid moments, where I can direct my mind towards something constructive again. I still wanted to connect with the grief in a helpful way, while also avoid idealizing our time together and getting stuck in the melancholy. So I made two lists.

One with all the things I love her for, and the ways in which I'm truly thankful to her. We had such amazing adventures together on our travels for instance, and she made sure to take (many) photographs along the way. I will always have those fragments of who we used to be at our best. She helped me try new things and relax more about myself too. On the other list I wrote down all the reasons why I had to leave and what was missing in our relationship. Quite a few items on that list too.

But it helped me to regain some balance, I think. Because of the way she is acting now, shutting down, disregarding my feelings and desire for healthy closure, it kept me from accepting and embracing the fact that I do still love her. And that it's okay to do so, even if I can't be with her anymore and we had some truly terrible moments together that I wish I could erase.

I'm not sure if it's helpful to check out and switch scenery for a while. Maybe driving around could be a helpful process - see new places, maybe run into some good people, find new rooms for reflection? I suppose if it comes at the cost of keeping your home that's a big decision, but yeah...this kind of situation just brings those questions to the forefront of the mind, doesn't it?

That van lifestyle was something my wife kept talking about. Actually she was almost fixated on it at times I would say. I get the draw of it, every day you can just pick at spot and make it home for a while. I looked at Workaway a bit personally. Maybe helping out with some cool and meaningful project for a while. Just immerse yourself in someone elses dream and ideas while learning something new.

Guess there is always the promise of new growth and possibilites, even when we're at our lowest.