Four Pound Shit Sandwich

One of my favorite analogies for divorce is that it's like being handed a four pound shit sandwich and being expected to finish the whole thing. It takes a long time and the bites don't taste any better the farther you go.

Right now I've probably chewed through the first couple mouthfuls, and I have to say it's been no picnic. Anger, pain, loneliness, regret and frustration mix together in every bite, and the finish has just a hint of disappointment. But you get to wash it down with sleepless nights, tension headaches and sexual frustration - if you're a prude like me. Right now the line in Vegas is 3:2 on me ever having sex again.

With a woman...

Without payment...

Yeah, the odds are pretty attractive.

The only upside is that the four pound divorce special pretty much takes care of any actual appetite - for food. For those of you that know me, I love to eat. But since my wife left I've lost almost 50 pounds. Divorce is better than Zumba if you're only focused on weight loss. I mean, three pants sizes in two months? It only sounds like an infomercial because it is. If Billy Mays was alive I'm sure he'd be pushing it.

The odds in Vegas just improved - I have to quit blogging about my weight loss.

Also contributing to my weight loss, I've found a good cry can quickly elevate the pulse to my target heart rate. I suppose you can count it towards your daily workout as 'cardio'.

Odds back down.  They realized I'm a huge pussy.

For me, the key to survival has been staying connected. Like any good meal, the shit sandwich is best shared with good friends and interesting companions. I've been fortunate to have shared the company of both during my journey. Sure, no rational person wants to hear about your divorce, but if your friends care about you they'll gladly share a meal. Okay, a few bites.  I recommend you spread the misery around - even the most steadfast friend has limits. When they stop returning your calls, you can be pretty sure they're full.

One surprising area of support has been perfect strangers who have gone through divorce. I think divorce may be similar to war. It doesn't matter where you've served, once you've been through the shit you're all veterans. And like war, you can't have one without casualties or collateral damage. Fellow divorcees have been surprisingly open and honest about the process and their personal mistakes or shortcomings. I think they understand the level of suck in a way happily (or unhappily) married people never will and I believe there is a growth process that can't be avoided.

Well, unless you're a total self-involved douche bag.  Like [censored].

One thing I would recommend to anyone going through 'the process' is to find and join a "Newly Divorced" support group. I found one on 'meetup.com' called 'Transitions'. It was a little scary, but quite rewarding once I talked myself out of the car. As my friend Brian said "If there is ANYONE who understands what you are going through, it's those people." I let the "those people" comment slide, but I'm beginning to think he may be abruptiophobic.

I think it's natural to think your divorce is special - that nobody has ever been screwed over quite as hard or quite as undeservedly as you. Well I'm here to tell you that you are full of shit. No matter how hard or how long you've been screwed by the rhinoceros dick of life (thanks John), there is at least one poor sap that got it worse. And I found him, but that will be a story for another post. Maybe. Feel free to post your own "biggest sap" story in the comments section. If I get more than one I might compile them.

Who are you kidding?  If you get one you'll need a tissue.

Finishing my shit sandwich is going to be unpleasant and difficult, but I'm convinced that if I stay focused, fulfill my responsibilities to my children and maintain my integrity I'll come out on the other end healthier and stronger than I entered. And I may just learn a little something along the way.