New Year...And The Nightmare Continues

WILL YOU EVER WAKE UP?

 

For many people a new year brings to mind a new beginning. It's an opportunity to look at where you've been and where you want/NEED to go next. For some the New Year brings a commitment to stop bad habits and change old behaviors that haven't served them well in the past. But how does this apply to you? You're stuck in a never ending nightmare of legal issues, relationship issues, mental health issues, possibly even substance abuse issues at this point, but at the core of it all, you have children to raise and must awake from the nightmare and begin the task of committing to a new way of being. But how does one go about a commitment to lose the debilitating fear and anxiety that has plagued you for so long and been your constant companion? How do you learn to leave behind the debilitating mode of just surviving one more day and learn to live your life in a string of days, weeks, months and years just as you used to?  What if you are so overwhelmed and blinded by your fear and inertia that you can't see three feet in front of you? "It's all too much, too hard. I' don't know where to begin so I'm not even going to try."   

 

The first step toward a new life is to begin the process of removing the roadblocks that have kept you from forging a new path. But how do you remove those gigantic boulders that are blocking your way forward?  It's going to take effort on your part. Doing nothing will get you nowhere and keep you in a place of fear. A body at rest tends to stay at rest. A body in motion stays in motion. The time has come to ACT rather than to continue to REACT.  The sooner you can understand the dire necessity of acting in the now, the better off you'll be later. 

 

The first roadblock you'll encounter is acceptance. You must accept the fact that life as you knew it is over. The happy family, the affluence you once enjoyed, the ease that each new day brought that was only tinged with the usual episodes of mild upheaval that all "normal" families have to deal with are in the past. What you are dealing with now is epic and requires an abundance of bravery and fortitude which brings me to the next block you must remove and that is an unwillingness to rise above the ashes. You must be able to put aside your pride, let go of being a victim, (which you are but getting stuck in that particular quick-sand pit won't serve you well),  and stop hiding. Your children are watching your every move and looking to you to lead them through the dark forest of fear and humiliation that has been bestowed upon them by someone they love and who supposedly loved them. Your confusion and fear becomes theirs. Remember this.   

 

You have been through hell and are likely still going through hell but if you are going to come through this you are going to have to commit to it 100%. In essence, you are going to have to raise the Titantic! It won't be easy but you must bring yourself back to life! And you're going to have to do this with or without outside support. But how? If you've never worked a day in your life and need assistance, then ask for it. There's no shame in getting help for yourself and your children while you seek training for a job or a roof over your head or food! If you've worked in the past but have been out of the paid workforce for many years it may take several months or even longer to find work in your previous profession. In either case, you will need to find paid work. Apply for EVERYTHING. Any work is better than no work. If you are far away from family and friends who can help with your children then by all means, move to wherever your support systems are.  

 

The third roadblock is keeping the past in the present and not in the past where it belongs. How can you focus on the future if you keep looking back? Would you drive your car looking backwards? No. It's dangerous and you'd crash. Would you push a baby stroller backwards? Of course not. Navigate forward. Looking back keeps you in the past and in harms way. Looking forward will keep you moving forward. I remember when I learned how to ski I instinctively kept looking down at my feet, (like most new skiers do),  and it looked as if I were going faster than I actually was, (a common illusion for new skiers). As as result I panicked every time I looked down and then crashed because I had not utilized the key ingredient in remaining upright and moving safely and pleasurably down the mountain. Because I was only paying attention to my feet and not on the rest of my body, I crashed every time and nearly gave up. Then my instructor taught me to look up and focus on where I wanted to go and to point my body in that direction and guess what? I forgot all about what my feet were doing and if I'd look right and focus on moving in that direction, well, that's where my body, (and my feet), would go! Just as she described to me. So whatever you do, don't look back and don't look down! Keep looking up, stay focused, point yourself in the direction you want to go and you'll get down the mountain safely. I promise you this.  

 

Making the necessary changes this year will help you to forge those new paths that will lead you to your own new beginning and upon the arrival of the next New Year let's see where you are. You may not be very much further down the road but then again, you'll be making some progress and, well, isn't that enough for now? Step by step and day by day. We'll all get someplace else. And isn't that better than where we are now?  

 

I'll be keeping you all in my thoughts and hoping for a better life for all us as we continue down the path of recovery and on down the mountain. 

 

  You are not alone!

 

Lisa

 

 

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS??

Doing the Best We Can With What We've Got

Here we are again smack dab in the middle of another holiday season. Trees are going up and homes are being decked with lights and decorations. People around you are making their plans with family and friends to attend and host holiday parties. They're shopping for gifts for their loved ones and generally speaking, having a jolly old time just as you and your family did not so long ago. But I have a feeling the last thing you want to do at this point is celebrate a festive holiday. Regardless of where you are in the process of dealing with your husband's/exe's legal issues/incarceration, celebrating the holidays is not exactly at the top of your list. Your finances are already strained to their limits, (and beyond), and you are likely down to your last nerve. You'll be pushing it to get a holiday meal on the table let alone gifts under the tree for your kids. You're already carrying a very heavy load and the added pressure to "perform" for the holidays will only bring additional stress and that's the last thing you need. So I suggest that you give yourself permission to do as much as you can but go no further. While it's important for children to celebrate Christmas in the traditional ways, (it's a time of great expectations for young children), you also need to keep up your reserves because the holidays will come and go and the financial and emotional toll this time of year brings can be devastating for you. The best gift you can give your children this year is to go easy on yourself and not get bogged down in a depression that will take weeks to recover from. So maybe this is the year to begin some new holiday traditions with your family that aren't quite as taxing as those of Christmas's past. Instead of putting up a tree, (too darn expensive!), get the the kids together and build a gingerbread house. Or bake some cookies and get the kids involved in decorating them. Watch favorite holiday movies together. Go to an evening caroling service at a local church. That always fills me up with the spirit of Christmas. Leave behind the traditional hustle and bustle of the season and utilize this holiday to lower your expectations and count your blessings. I know it may not seem like it and it took me a very long time to realize this but there are still some silver linings to be found in the old and tattered pockets of our lives. So don't shy away from experiencing this holiday season. Life is different now and as such so is the way you celebrate this holiday with your family.  And really, it's the memories you create together as a family that your children will look back upon with fondness and not what gifts they did or didn't get. The truth is that you are the most precious gift of all to your children, and they know it. 

Merry Christmas.
 
-Lisa   

THANKSGIVING.....

(From November, 2013)

Blessings?

     It's Thanksgiving and you might be wondering what in the world you have to be thankful for given the state of your life as it is now. This holiday that once held such meaning for you may now be nothing more than a reminder of the happy family you once were. But there are blessings around you if you choose to open your heart to them. 

     Now is the time to realize and accept that the little things in life really are the BIG things. Perception is everything. Yes, you and your family are in a tough place living what may seem like a never ending nightmare, but take a break from it. Yes, I said it. Take a break from it. You and your children deserve a holiday of giving and receiving just like everyone else. Set a nice table for your family even if your holiday meal is nothing more than chicken nuggets and boxed potatoes. Whatever you serve on your table this Thanksgiving doesn't matter. It's being with family, (whether blood or chosen), and taking pride in the fact that you're still standing. Give yourself permission to take the day off from the stress and worry that white collar wives experience on a daily basis. The day after Thanksgiving will come and the messes of your life will still be there waiting for you. But instead of waking up the day after Thanksgiving and embracing your sad, fearful and anxiety ridden reality, why not instead embrace a new way of dealing with your circumstances? What if you decided that enough is enough? What would that look like? What would that FEEL like? Try it on. Take on a powerful stance. Take control back! Just because you are a victim doesn't mean you have to behave like one. Do whatever it is you need to do to begin to take your life back from the white collar crime machine that has taken control over you. You are bold. I know you are because you've made it this far and cared enough about your wellbeing to seek out this blog. Take back your life because if you don't, another Thanksgiving will roll around and you'll still be frightened. You'll still be shocked. You'll still be sad. And as the years roll on this will be how you live your life.  Is that really what you want? I know it's not. So, put the past where it belongs and don't look back.  There's nothing for you back there anyway. And try not to look too far forward either because that can also be too overwhelming and depressing.  Instead, live in the moment because we can only live one day at a time anyway and soon all of your everyday moments will blend together to create your new way of being, within yourself and in the world. It's not going to be easy but why make it more difficult in wallowing in self-pity? EVERYDAY try to work toward a new life. A better life. For you and your children. Decide that that's what you are gong to do and then go and do it.  It's a long and hard road to find your way out but you can get there if you try. And we can help you if you let us. The White Collar Wives Club awaits you, all you have to do is reach out and you will find a caring community of others who have been where you are now. Don't walk this road alone. Contact me at lawlerlisa1@gmail.com for information about becoming a member. 

I'm thinking of you as we begin this holiday season. I know it's not the life you wanted but it's the life you have. Make the best of it and the rest will follow. Count your blessings and may you and your family have a very Happy Thanksgiving.

-Lisa

You are not alone!   

THE WHITE COLLAR WIVES SURVIVAL GUIDE

THE WHITE COLLAR WIVES SURVIVAL GUIDE!

I wish I had one of these to help guide me when I was taking my first steps down the long path of being a white collar wife. I looked for help and guidance and found nothing.  I have seven years of experience in living this new life and hope my "expertise" on the subject can be of help to someone else.


The White Collar Wives Survival Guide is an e-book that addresses many common concerns white collar wives have regarding how to manage the stress, panic, anger and general upheaval in their lives. I've included a "Tool Kit" in the book as a quick reference guide. 

I plan to have this guide available soon and will post the release date here on my blog. Please contact me @lisalawler1@gmail.com for further information. 

You are not alone!

GUILT BY ASSOCIATION

GUILT BY ASSOCIATION

Guilt by association is a common occurrence among white collar wives. Being married to or divorced from a white collar criminal means that to some degree, whether real or imagined, we have a target on our backs. What the public doesn’t understand is that we are victims too. The lives we led were filled with lies and betrayal. And not only do we have to endure the heartache of this betrayal and the legal ramifications of our husband’s criminal actions, we also have to manage the pain and suffering of our children.   

     Most women have no idea of their husband’s criminal activity but they and their families have to endure the grueling process of the legal system. There are investigations to get through, grand juries and indictments, criminal trials or plea deals and ultimately, in most cases, incarceration. Our lives have been pulled out from under us. In many cases we lose our homes, friends and the life we spent years building. And as if all of that isn’t enough we have to be scrutinized by the public. We didn’t ask for any of it and while we aren’t the ones going to prison we have to suffer the consequences and pay a very high price ourselves because the man we are/were married to has proven to be a menace to society. And if the crime deprived anyone of their pension or caused individuals extreme financial hardship we feel the guilt because the person who perpetrated the crime was someone we trusted ourselves. We feel bad about it and are helpless to do anything to make amends financially or otherwise. 

     If you suffer from guilt by association you are not alone. With time comes healing and as you forge a new life and become stronger in your own sense of self your feelings of guilt will begin to subside.

Is This Really Happening?

"Is this really happening to us?" In the beginning I asked myself that question countless times over the course of a day. And when the early days slipped into the "middle of the mess days", I was still asking myself that question, "Is this really happening to us?" I realize the question was redundant and the answer was always the same, (clear and quite reliable),  "Yes, this is really happening".  But I couldn't believe it so I continued asking this question holding out for hope that at some point the answer would be different.  In my warped sense of reality I truly thought that maybe the universe had confused us with somebody else.  But the universe didn't have us confused with anyone else. It was me who was confused. 

Although I was FULLY AWARE of what was happening in our lives, I was having a very difficult time ACCEPTING our new state of being. My refusal to accept this new reality kept me in a state of panic for the first few years of our ordeal and served no other purpose than to paralyze me which kept me in a constant state of fear, confusion and inertia which led me into the trap of normalizing our situation.  I didn't want to believe that life as we knew it was over. We had built a wonderful life and although our family wasn't perfect, it was our very own. We were connected to each other for better or for worse. My son had always adored his father and had thought him to be a man of substance.  But now he only sees his father as a man who has failed himself and his family and he is devastated.  We were connected to dear friends and to a community. We belonged somewhere.  There is a sense of purpose and safety in belonging somewhere and standing on solid ground. But we don't belong anywhere anymore and even on our best days the ground is constantly shifting under our feet. We have lost our sense of identity. We are broken. This "THING" has taken over our lives and it has taken me a very long time to accept this.  We can never go back. We can only keep trying to move forward.

Pushing away your own reality is a dysfunctional coping mechanism that serves no other purpose other than to postpone the inevitable.  Denying a diagnosis of a serious illness doesn't make it go away. Accepting it and seeking treatment can mean the difference between life and death. Fully accepting what has happened to your life and being proactive is the key in being a "surviving spouse" of white collar crime.  

Fully accepting the truth means that you have to do something about your situation. In waiting so long to finally accept that my life as I knew it was over I allowed panic and worry to become my two most reliable companions. They were there for me every waking moment. They understood me and knew how broken I was without me having to explain it to them.  And when they went away for a bit I could always summon them back and without hesitation or qualification they'd be there for me again, no questions asked.  I could count on them and even came to depend on them for comfort. They gave me permission to be victimized.  They allowed me to become depressed and even suicidal. They allowed me, without judgement, to make unwise decisions. There's a huge difference between knowing something terrible in your life has happened and accepting the facts as they are. Knowing simply means that you are aware. Acceptance  means that you do something constructive about it. You didn't cause the mess you and your family are in but it's now up to you to do something about it.

In those early days I could see that life was going on AROUND me but I didn't feel any connection to it.  I went through the motions of living but I felt like the walking dead. I decided to normalize our situation as best I could so that "the others" wouldn't know of our plight and so that my son had some semblance that things weren't as bad as they were. I couldn't make new friends because I didn't want to be pitied, or worse, judged.  So I went through the motions of having a "normal" life. I got my son up for school and attended his sporting events. Helped him with homework, walked the dog and chatted with neighbors like a "normal" person. I paid bills, made grocery runs, held down the fort and waited for the sun to go down so that I could hang out with my two best buddies, Panic and Worry. In the early days I thought staying on top of my daily to do list meant that I was moving forward. In time I realized that doing these things wasn't moving forward at all. Rather, they were just part of surviving. 

Accepting "what is" sooner rather than later can make all the difference between merely surviving and actually moving forward. If I knew then what I know now I would have done things very differently and I wouldn't be where I am now. Let my experience serve as a cautionary tale.  Do as I say, not as I did and you will come through these dark days stronger and much more productive than I was. With acceptance comes action. Denial leads to inertia and that can only hold you back. Work EACH DAY on setting up your foundation and before you know it, you'll be standing on solid ground. Accept what has happened and who you are now. Don't look down. Keep looking forward.  And above all else, don't allow this terrible situation you are in define you.

You are not alone. 

(Book chapter from : House on Fire: A Cautionary Tale)

THEY'VE GOT ME IN THE WRONG PLACE!! 

THEY’VE GOT ME IN THE WRONG PLACE!!

     Hunter and I had just sat down to dinner when his cell phone rang.  My son knew calls weren’t allowed during family time but he couldn’t resist stealing a glance at his phone. Hunter looked up at me with panic in his eyes and said, “Mom, dad’s calling”. We had been expecting to hear from Tom but when the call came it caught us both off guard.  I told Hunter calmly, “If you feel like you can handle it then take the call”.    He was scared but my brave son switched his phone on to speaker. Instead of hearing his father’s voice there was a woman’s prerecorded voice saying, “You are receiving a call from an inmate at the Worcester County Jail. This call is being recorded”. The recorded message went on to relay the fact that anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.  Hunter wasn’t sure how to react to that and I could tell it made him very uncomfortable. I was livid and heartbroken at the same time. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my young son would be accepting a call from his father from jail.  Outwardly I tried to appear calm to signal to Hunter that it was going to be okay,(I was becoming an expert at feigning being calm), and listened as Tom began to speak.  Tom always spoke louder than was necessary and there was plenty of background noise so he was shouting into the phone.

“Hey, it’s dad. Sorry, it’s really loud in here.  How‘ya doing buddy?”  We could hear the other inmates carousing in the background. It was good to hear his voice. 

Hunter responded, “I’m okay dad. How is it there?” 

Trying to sound upbeat Tom replied, “Well it's not the Ritz but it's better than I though it'd be. Hey, guess what kind of shoes I’m wearing? “

“I dunno dad.” Hunter was in no mood for a guessing game.

“I’m wearing white Converse sneakers!”  Tom was laughing. He had always teased Hunter about the enormous Herman Munster tennis shoes he and his friends wore for skateboarding so it was supposed to be funny that his dad now had to wear them in jail.

“Yeah, that’s funny dad”, Hunter responded. But it wasn’t really funny to Hunter. There was a moment of silence and wanting to avoid the reality of the situation Tom tried to keep his son engaged. But Hunter didn’t know what to say next. Thankfully Tom sensed this and carried most of the conversation.

“How’s the football team doing?” Even though our son was no longer playing he had agreed to keep Tom up to date on his school’s football team status as they had been number one in the state four years in a row.  High school football is extremely competitive in Texas and four wins in a row was rare. Now they were trying for their fifth consecutive win so it really was a big deal. Hunter had always been active in team sports since he was five years old playing tee ball, then little league, lacrosse and football. It was playoff time at Hunter’s high school and a few days earlier the football team had left for Cowboy Stadium in three luxury buses that my son had once described to me as “beyond awesome!” There were dozens of supporters lining the road for miles waving banners and signs wishing the boys and their family’s good luck.  I was so accustomed to supporting my son’s teams that after dropping Hunter at school I joined the long car parade. It was exhilarating to participate once again and I began waving back with full on enthusiasm to the parade pedestrians. I was bursting with joy for the boys, the coaches and their families. As I drove a bit further down the road it hit me that what I was doing was ridiculous. It felt so good to be happy about SOMETHING but I was alone and didn’t have a son on the team. What the hell was I doing? Then the tears came.  Hunter should be on that bus but he had lost all interest in sports after his father went to jail. I didn't belong in that line or in that life any longer. I ducked out of the parade, turned my car around and headed home.

“The team’s doing well dad. They played up in Dallas last Friday at Cowboy Stadium. It looks like they have a great shot at winning again.”  Hunter replied.

“Wow. Cowboy Stadium. That’s pretty cool. I wish we could have gone to the game together.”   

“Yeah, me too dad.”   The conversation quickly became strained but Hunter tried his best to be supportive. After a few more minutes of banal banter the conversation tapered off into silence.

“You know I love you”. Tom said.

Hunter replied, “I know. I love you too dad. Take care of yourself in there.”

“I’ll do my best. Get my address from mom and send me a letter, okay? I mean it. I want to keep in touch. At least a letter a week. Okay buddy?”

“Sure dad.”

“Can I please talk to your mom?” Hunter handed me his cell phone and I clicked off the speaker for some privacy. I got up from the table and as I walked into the living room toward the sofa I stole a quick glance back at my son to check for any signs of breakage but Hunter had already left the table and gone to his room.  I took a deep breath to try to stave off the shakiness of my voice because I was literally all choked up after watching Hunter experience the first call from his dad from jail.  I was torn between my anger at having my son experience and endure his father’s incarceration and my compassion toward Tom. Tom certainly deserved to be in jail but I also had known him as the man who would give a stranger the shirt off his back. The irony being that he would give a stranger the shirt off his back but he would put his own family in harm’s way.

“Hi, are you okay?” I asked. The levity that Tom had shared with his son only moments earlier had vanished. In the most indignant tone he could muster, Tom said, “They’ve got me in the wrong place!” I had to move the phone away from my ear not only to relieve myself of the sheer volume of Tom’s voice but because I was stunned at the very idea that he could even have such a thought. I took a deep breath and shaking my head responded calmly.

“Where do you think you should be Tom?” I had to remind myself that the man was ill.

“Not in this hell hole.” He went on to tell me how awful it was there and that “the place was filled with nothing but “thugs”. I took another deep breath. He said there were also a lot of “kids” there for possession of marijuana. Tom felt strongly about the fact that marijuana should be legalized. Locking up a third of the teenage population for possession was simply ridiculous.

    So they had him in the wrong place. My heart sank. We weren’t off to a good start here. After all we had been through, AFTER ALL THAT HE HAD PUT HIS FAMILY THROUGH, instead of being humble and contrite, even in jail he was still entitled.  Tom had never missed an opportunity to tell our camping friends that his idea of camping was a Best Western Motel.  I’ll bet camping didn’t sound so bad to him now. For the remainder of our conversation Tom rambled on and on about the bad food and the REAL criminal types he had to deal with.  I listened to him rant for a few more minutes, mindful that his irrational attitude was not only a result of his illness but more likely was coming from a place of extreme fear.  

“Tom, you need to remember that this call is being recorded. You need to know that anything you say over the phone can be used against you. It's best if you try to be contrite instead of so angry. I'm sure your attorney must have explained all of this to you.” 
Tom said, “Yeah, he told me. But I really don’t belong here”.  As much as I wanted to stand by Tom and continue to help him through, he wasn’t making it easy.

Tom continued. “You need to set up a phone account with a credit card so I can make regular calls through the system.” He told me the name of the company to call and explained that the fee was nine dollars per twenty minute call.

“Tom, money is really tight so please understand that you can only make a few calls per month”.

“I know. But I can’t not talk to my son”. All I could think of was “well you should have thought about that before you decided to become a criminal, you asshole!”

“The house money isn’t going to last forever and who knows how long you’ll be gone and how long it will take me to find a job”. And on that note, true to my compassionate nature, I asked him if there was anything I could send him and he said he wanted books and pencils and paper so he could write letters.

“You can’t just send me things directly. You have to order them from Amazon and have them shipped here to the jail”.  Again, Tom sounded indignant.

“Okay. I’ll order a couple of books and writing tablets. Anything else?” The one minute warning voice interrupted us and Tom said, “You know I’m really sorry I put you guys through this”. I said, “We know.”  And then the phone went dead. I would come to learn that the one minute warning wasn’t always a full minute. 

     I got up off the sofa and stood in the middle of my living room with the dead phone dangling from my hand and cried, overwhelmed once again by what our lives had come to. The very fact that I was speaking with Tom in jail was surreal.  And instead of wanting to know how WE were doing he spent the entirety of the conversation talking about how miserable HE was. Some things never change.  I took a deep cleansing breath and then called Hunter back to the table to finish dinner. Both of us agreed that although the call was indeed bizarre, we were glad Tom was at least hanging on. We passed a knowing glance and then I smiled at my son and said, “well that was really weird but we’re going to be okay”. I felt like throwing the phone through the window but instead I winked at my son as we sat back down for dinner. Hunter smiled back at me and we talked about his
Mythology report that was due the next day. One day at a time
indeed.