“It’s like I’m standing on the diving board”, she said. “I’ve been standing there for so long now, and I still can’t find the courage to dive. Much as I want to.”
Everything Susie said was self-critical. She should have jumped by now. She should have left her abusive husband.
She wasn’t prepared to cut herself any slack at all.
Intellectually, she knew everything I - or anyone else - could tell her.
But, still, there she was, paralyzed, by the knowledge that she had to dive. (Because it’s not what you know with your head that matters; what matters is getting your heart to the point of letting go of this relationship that does NOT work.)
Susie’s knowledge hadn’t percolated through to heart level, yet.
She remained poised on that diving board, agonizing over her next move: should it be a forward dive, or a backward dive, an inward dive, or an armstand dive…”
She asked me: “How did you find the courage to leave?”
I found myself laughing as a vision popped, unbidden, into my mind.
You see, the truth is, I didn’t find the courage to leave. Not really.
I stood on that diving board, and stood on that diving board, every muscle tensed for action and…
Eventually, the time came when I fell off.
Period.
Think about it for a moment. You stand on that diving board. Either you face the water or you face the steps back down to the ground). You concentrate so hard on what you have to do, and the difficulties of what you have to do, that every muscle is quivering.
You stand there, and stand there, thinking about how you have to get the dive absolutely right. So you focus on getting yourself into the perfect position.
And because nobody’s there to fire a starting pistol for you, you can carry on standing there, focusing as hard as you can on the dive you’re going to perform, desperately straining every muscle…
After a while, your muscles go into spasm.
That’s more or less what happened to me.
One fateful day, while I was still up there focusing on how and when I was going to dive (and, BTW, I hate heights, they make my head spin) I ended up with severe cramps and, …
I just plain fell off that diving board.
It didn’t happen as the result of a conscious decision.
I have to admit that it wasn’t graceful or elegant.
But, here’s the thing, it didn’t have to be.
It wasn’t the Olympic games. There were no medals to be had for the quality of my descent. There was absolutely nobody to watch or judge me; except me.
Once I started falling, I was too busy organizing my body to worry about other people’s judgements.
And, you know what?
The landing wasn’t too bad, at all.
By the time I entered the water, all the mental preparation I’d done, made it rather easier than I’d feared it might be.
Sure I made a bit of a splash, but that was no big deal. It’s not a spectator sport.
The water was more welcoming than I’d thought.
Coming back up to the surface was easier than I’d imagined.
Staying afloat was less trouble than I’d anticipated.
And I realized, the important thing had never been making the perfect dive off that diving board.
The only important thing had been whether there was water in the pool, or not, to cushion my landing. And, of course, there was.
Whether you jump off that diving board, fall off it, or hang on up there with your muscles in spasm for that little bit longer, the fact is, you’re safe.
You will be okay.
I hope you’ll take your leave of that diving board in 2011. You’ve no need to stay up there any longer.
You’ve done your time.
Your life is waiting for you down in the pool.
When you are ready to take your leave of that diving board, I’d love to help and support you. It will make the process easier for you, and the landing softer.
WOW - this is me, Teetering on the edge of the diving board, ready, but never jumping. My fear keeps me there. I am so dependant and with 4 kids, and no drivers license, the fear seems soooo very paralyzing.
Posted by: me | May 05, 2011 at 06:23 PM
Hi there, I can totally relate to the 'diving syndrome' that you so well portray. I actually would take the dive, get out of the pool and go up the steps again and contemplate the dive yet again. This fortunately has only lasted about a year. I am in the pool right now and have gotten out of the water twice but did not go up the ladder, so to speak. I kept waiting after getting back into the relationship for another one of his lies to surface so that I could muster up the anger enough to take the dive again. I recently read about the 'abusive spouse cycle' and WOW. I have been doing ok and discovering what I like and what things about me aren't true that he said about me. I can survive and be well. I am a single mother of 3, not his, and I am back to being on 'my own'. He would often reiterate to me how lucky 'we were' to be together since probably no man could do what he did(put up with 3 kids that aren't his). Nonetheless, I find myself focusing on his 'positive side' and recently I answered his messages to me..the ones that beg for forgiveness, tell me how much he loves me, so on and so on. I KNOW they are manipulative and yet I still responded, all of them were angry except the last one where I tell him that 'I will always love him and this is why this hurts so much. Goodbye.' I was fine until that last text message and somehow I felt like I had given my power away, yet again. Big surprise, I feel depressed. Even though I got the last word, I still struggle with going back and forth in my head about what he is thinking, doing, feeling, etc. I hate that he still has this power that I am giving him. I am looking for a support group because I never imagined this would be so hard. Thank you for your analogy and I am determined to stay off the stairs and going on that damn diving board yet again. Thanks.
Posted by: Sunnie | April 01, 2011 at 05:57 AM
IMO, pressuring someone to leave when they're not ready can make it worse. I stayed with my abusive parents until I finished my masters degree. People were telling me to get out ASAP, but I had no money to do it. I knew I would make it outside of my parents' house by waiting to get a job after graduation.
Posted by: Nolongeraslave | February 02, 2011 at 06:17 PM