Susan J. Elliott - Getting Past Your Breakup: How to Turn a Devastating Loss into the Best Thing That Ever Happened to You

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Table of Contents

For my children, Christopher, Michael, Nicholas, and Gina

Success is building a foundation with bricks thrown by others.

DAVID BRINKLEY

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

No author can write a book alone, and Ive had plenty of support. So there are many people Id like to thank:

My husband, Michael DiCarlo, for loving me, being there for me, and believing in me like no one else ever has. I love you truly.

My beautiful grandsons, C.J. and Derek, for giving me a reason to smile every single day.

My brothers, Ricky and Billy. I love you.

My best friend, Carlotta Cassidy, for her unwavering understanding and support.

My dear friend Barbara McCarthy for always being there.

My supportive friends Marian Erickson, Candice Cook, Melissa Wandersee, Jenny Rynell, and Martin Pascual.

My daughters-in-law, Kristen and Heather, and my sisters-in-law, Kathy and Marion.

My mentors, teachers, and inspirations along the way: Cheryl Cabral, Beverly Hall, Rodney Hayes, Ken Hammond, Katie Sunderland, Jacquie Pells, John James of the Grief Recovery Institute, and Lou Tice of the Pacific Institute.

My agent, Diane Freed, and the great group of people at FinePrint Literary Management.

My editor, Katie McHugh at Da Capo, for believing in this book.

Joan and Anthony Nittoli, Theresa Andis-DiCarlo, Mark Carley, Julie Carlo, Tony Nittoli, Joe Jasniewski, Kathy Fox, Vonne Cranmer, Gia Goldman, Lexi Feinberg, Beatrice B., Nick Chiodini, Eric Elkins, Brenda Murphy, Laura Jelin, Eileen MacDonald, Kara Harter, Jenny Mahoney, Gena Wright, Patrick Lidji, L. Felipe Guimaraes, Paul Alexander, Megan MacLeod, Lucy Hunt, Libby Huegel, Heather Baker, Nicole Cusick, and Genevieve Sebesta.

All my blog readers, seminar students, private coaching clients, and conference attendees, as well as all of those who encouraged me to put it in a book.

Ive spent twenty years researching and reading, but there were a few books that touched my heart and soul, changed my life and had a profound effect on my work. Id like to thank the authors of those books: Melody Beattie, Robin Norwood, Susan Forward, Clarissa Pinkola Ests, Therese Rando, and Stephen and Ondrea Levine.

After I finished writing this book, Michael, the love of my life, was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Although facing his loss is devastating, I would never have known the love of such a special person if I had not changed my life. The years I have spent with him have been the best Ive ever known. I am caring for him as he would do for me if the situation was reversed. I will be forever grateful that he came to share my life. And that would not have been possible without the work described herein.

PREFACE: MY STORY

It is by going down into the abyss that we recover the treasures of life.
Where you stumble, there lies your treasure.

JOSEPH CAMPBELL

The following stories of my relationships and of my childhood are extreme, but I tell them for you to believe that if I can do it, you can do it. I have a life today that not only is successful but is absolutely joyous. I am healthy, happy, and strong. Ive done the work that I ask you to do in the following pages. I know that its hard, but believe me, its so worth it.

When I ended my marriage, I was convinced it was the right thing to do for about twenty-four hours. I had been unhappy for a long time, the fights had become unbearable, and I was convinced he was cheating on me. Although I had lived with my husbands criticism for years, things grew much worse when my company went bankrupt and I suddenly lost my job.

My boss gave me a good reference, and I tried to think positively in the first few days after the layoff. I edited my rsum, bought an interviewing suit, and researched potential employers. But each night my husband would come home expecting a clean house and a cooked dinner, since I was home all day doing nothing. Arguing with him was the last thing I needed, so I put the job search aside and spent the next few days cooking and cleaning. He then took issue with the simple meals I made and the fact that his clothes were not washed. When I spent the next day doing laundry and making an elaborate midweek meal, he complained that I wasnt actively looking for work and barked at me for playing house.

This type of no-win situation was nothing new in our relationship, but without my job to distract me, it began to grate on my nerves. I was stressed over money and my professional future and didnt need someone haranguing me over meals and laundry.

One day I thought I had hit upon the perfect balance. I went on a job interview in the morning and when I came home I waxed the floors. While the floors dried, I picked up the kids from school and brought his favorite take-out food home. I had looked for work, cleaned the house, spent time with the kids, and had a surprise dinner waiting for him. I was sure I had hit the home run of domestic bliss.

He came home that night and pointed out that there were streaks on the floor and accused me of purposely messing up the floors so that he would not let me do it again. I was stunned and tried to explain that was not my intention. It reminded me of my mothers criticism when I was a kid. She said that I purposely screwed things up to shirk my responsibilities. Hearing the same thing, I insisted that was not what happened. He called me a few choice names, and I retaliated with names of my own. As had become the norm, the argument grew violent and we each threatened to end things once and for all.

The next day I told him it was over and he had to leave. He scoffed at the idea and blamed me for what had transpired on the previous night. Whenever our arguments escalated into violence, it was my fault. Most of the time I believed him, but this time I didnt care whose fault it was. I just wanted it to end.

I packed a box of his things and left it on the kitchen table with a note telling him to take it and leave. Instead of arguing with me, he grabbed the box and stormed out. I felt an immediate sense of reliefI was so glad to be alone.

But in the morning I could barely lift my head off the pillow. At first I thought I was sick, but soon realized there was nothing physically wrong. Forcing myself out of bed to get the kids to school, I felt more than a little sad. As the day wore on, I tried to stay busy to brush off an encroaching feeling of doom. With each passing hour, I found myself increasingly glancing at the phone. By the early afternoon, I was checking it every few minutes to be sure it had a dial tone.

As the boys played, I arranged some chicken in a pan. Instead of my usual jeans and T-shirt, I put on a skirt and a blouse, applied a thick coat of mascara, and brushed my hair up to one side. I secretly hoped that he would come home and see a cooked meal, a clean house, a lovely wife, and quiet children and want to move back in. What? I had tried to get out of this relationship for a long time. Why was I thinking these bizarre thoughts?

For the next few days, he didnt call or come over, and I stopped eating and sleeping. I felt dazed, anxious, depressed, and obsessed with thoughts of him. Instead of concentrating on our recent battles, I relived the good times of our relationship. Missing him desperately and realizing that I had made a horrible mistake, I tried to get in touch with him so we could talk. He didnt answer any of my messages.

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