The divorce process itself is one of my dragons. He’s not my ex-husband-to-be. He’s divorce and all it’s layered meanings to me. My first head-on encounter occurred when the papers arrived. Sword in hand, I railed against him, but he joined my household anyway. Dealing with the legal end of this process, face-to-face or from my home, can leave me in a cold sweat. Impatient claw clicks grow louder as the Judgement of Divorce statement sent from my lawyer sits in my inbox, needing comments and revisions from me. Once I look at him head on, read the papers, fill in the necessary blanks, and send them off, he retreats, returning to his spot in the house.
At points, my sadness about this divorce overwhelms me, tears flow and sobbing leaves me exhausted. Following my honest acceptance of my feelings about this life change, he actually shrinks a bit. When fear of the future floods my system, he feeds heartily, growing more threatening as my anxiety deepens. Only when I can face his gaping maw, brimming forth with smoke and oppressive heat, does he back away, having seen the strength I possess. He requires honest acknowledgement and forward motion to maintain an even temperment.
My dragon’s not leaving. Divorce is forever with me and my children. Living with it peacefully, repecting it’s reality and responding honestly without excessive anxiety is the choice I’ve made. I’ve layed down my sword and face my newest resident accordingly.