Throughout my life, I’ve excelled at compartmentalizing my feelings, often to my own detriment. However, during my divorce, I became exceptionally skilled at pushing my emotions aside. My ex-husband frequently expressed anger and made threats, often concerning custody of our children or ensuring that I would never receive any financial support, despite the fact that the money was ours, not just his.
Each time he unleashed his fury, I felt myself mentally retreating, almost as if I had been switched off like a robot. My gaze would drift, and I would focus on my breathing, repeating to myself not to react. I understood that provoking his ego could lead to emotional outbursts, but I was uncertain about what might trigger him. Therefore, I opted to display almost no emotion.
Legally, my ex-husband had no basis for his threats, thanks to my attorney’s guidance. I had taken precautions, documenting our account details and saving bank statements. I was aware that the laws in our state protected my custody of the children, and any attempts to act on his threats would backfire on him. Keeping a record of his manipulative texts and emails was a potential safeguard if needed, and my calm demeanor denied him any emotional fuel.
I promised myself that I would never give him a reason to accuse me of losing control, nor would I allow my children to witness our arguments. Thus, I remained silent and composed, shutting down emotionally whenever he made threats.
His threats were often interspersed with apologies, stating that his anger was to blame for his words. I chose to stay quiet, recognizing that it was a temporary situation until we both left the house. I created separate sleeping arrangements and waited for the storm to pass.
Whenever he was near, I suppressed my personality and withdrew completely when he became aggressive. During necessary discussions about our separation or co-parenting, I kept my tone low and calm. He frequently questioned my unusual way of speaking, asking why I seemed unresponsive, at one point even saying I sounded like a therapist.
For every moment I was near him, I became like a lethargic machine, staring blankly and blinking occasionally. If I feared that my silence would intensify his anger, I would offer bland responses just to keep the peace.
It took six months to sell our house, and although shutting down was a necessary defense mechanism at the time, it left scars I hadn’t anticipated. I had to protect myself from engaging in futile arguments, but now, reflecting on that period, I find it hard to believe I remained so composed in the face of his vitriol.
Part of me admires the calm facade I maintained, yet another part of me feels deeply traumatized. When I was finally alone, I would shake, cry, and experience panic attacks. My body was flooded with cortisol, rendering me hardly functional. I lost weight, struggled at work, and my hair began to fall out. Externally, I may have appeared collected, but internally, I was in turmoil.
During that time, my focus was solely on maintaining my children’s mental well-being. Only recently have I begun to understand the toll that my prolonged emotional shutdown took on me. I became accustomed to existing as a mere shadow of myself, coming alive only to be the mother my kids needed. I am still on the path to recovery, relearning how to be fully present.
Since our divorce was finalized two years ago, my ex has occasionally reached out with apologies and invitations to “hang out,” almost as if he has forgotten the hurtful things he said. Perhaps he believes his anger justifies those words, or maybe he thinks my silence meant I wasn’t affected.
Forgiveness is not something I can envision. While he maintains a good relationship with the kids, I limit our communication to what’s necessary for their care. Occasionally, he tries to provoke me, and just like that, I revert to the emotional shutdown of our divorce.
I am committed to being the best mother I can be, but I eagerly await the day when I no longer have to engage with him as much. I long to stop feeling like a switch inside me is always poised to turn off.
For more insights on navigating difficult situations like this, check out this other blog post or learn about fertility supplements that can help along your journey. For additional valuable information, visit this resource on IVF.
Summary:
In the midst of a challenging divorce, I emotionally shut down to protect myself from my ex-husband’s threats and volatile behavior. This coping mechanism, while necessary at the time, led to significant internal struggles and long-term effects on my mental health. I focused on maintaining a calm atmosphere for my children and have since been on a journey of recovery and self-discovery.
Keyphrase: emotional shutdown during divorce
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]