As agonizing as the divorce process can be, most of us come out the other side with relatively little permanent damage. In fact, after we’ve had time to gain some perspective, many of us feel that we’re actually stronger than we were before.
I’m (mostly) in that camp. In fact, I’ve been trying to decide whether it’s time to stop writing about divorce—whether this blog has run its course. My everyday life has little to do with the topic. I’m busy chasing kids, working full time, and trying to eek out a few hours of sleep in between. In essence, I’ve recovered. And yet, I realized this week that there is one sneaky lasting effect of my divorce: indecisiveness.
I don’t trust myself to make decisions. This mostly applies to big, life-changing choices, but sometimes it’s just the stupid little things. It feels more comfortable to let someone else decide, and honestly, I’m missing my most recent therapist right about now (it’s been nearly four years since I last saw her). Do I need to go again? Maybe—I don’t know. I can’t freaking decide!
Why do I attribute my indecision to my divorce? Because in hindsight, it’s so clear that I made the wrong decision when I decided to marry my ex. It was a HUGE decision, and I made the wrong choice. The self-defeating part of my brain extrapolates that experience to other areas of my life, and then WHAMMO, I am paralyzed by the inability to choose a course of action. I tell myself that I suck at making decisions.
One thing is clear: I need to make a decision about next steps for this blog and my unpublished memoir. I simply don’t have enough energy to do everything I want to do right now. In my heart, I want to move forward, but my brain has me making my way through the labyrinth still.