After a long marriage, a recently divorced man has to build his new life while maintaining key elements of the life that was. For some men, this can take years, but we don’t have the luxury of time.
I find restructuring the administrative and financial aspects of my life to be the most foreboding. When I think of what it took to set up at least some security for my family, how quickly it was dismantled and what I have to do to restore it, I want to auction off my organs on DealDash and put the proceeds into a trust for the kids. While I am taking baby steps to shore up the damage, the thought of poring over all the mail, making the calls and reviewing the documents fills me with such dread, I’m tempted to grab a parka and sneak across the border to Canada never to return.
I know it’s childish to dwell on how good things could have been — had they not totally imploded. I know the longer I procrastinate the longer I will wrestle with crippling anxiety. I even know I’ve dealt with worse and still managed to thrive. But now, I also know the higher up the ladder I get, the longer the fall — and likewise the climb back up.
Then again, I consider the odds of this blog actually changing my life or that of others, the effort required to build it out, whether I can make money doing it and the long range plans I have beyond it. Strangely, this set of equally intimidating notions brings me a curious peace, a sense that it’s all gonna be OK.
I guess this good feeling is a result of thinking so differently than how I programmed myself to think while married; I’m stepping out of the box I built. Now, I have to seal up that box — along with all the angst it holds — and put it out with the trash.