His Dumpster Fire, Not My Marshmallows

I probably need to find a new mantra. I’ve been using “Not my monkeys, not my circus” for the last few months, and I absolutely love it. It fits my situation perfectly, but I’m wondering if it’s losing its “KABAM!” quality.

Let’s think, shall we? How about some of these:

Not my rodeo: Too plain.

Not my pasture, not my cows: Has some potential.

I'm not the lifeguard for every emotional pool: I don’t know why, but when I read this, I think of a red gooey pool. Gross.

I left my superhero cape at home: I never thought of myself as a superhero. I’m a constant work in progress.

Your lack of planning doesn’t constitute an emergency on my part: Taken. I use it at work. A lot. Boundaries!

Their dumpster fire, not my marshmallows: We found a winner!

Their dumpster fire, not my marshmallows.

Starting today, I’m using this new mantra.

And I need it.

The separation from my ex has been testing me. More than I expected. I mean, I didn’t think it would be sunshine and puppies, but I also didn’t think I’d be dipping into my healing toolkit as often as I am.

Our interactions have been very limited. But when they happen, it’s not the friendship I thought we were leaving it on. At all.

Imaginary battle lines have been drawn that I wasn’t expecting. It started the day of the move. I asked that he stay in the bedroom to avoid unnecessary conflict with my family, and he agreed. Until he didn’t. His inability to honor my boundary because he wanted to control the situation merely strengthened my decision to leave.

Not my monkeys. Not my circus.

Then there were the moments of non-communication. Those were moments I was least prepared for because we’d been so good at communicating…until he started down a slippery slope.

Doing things with our joint accounts without talking to me first. Not answering texts when I’m trying to find out what’s going on with the accounts.

And when we did talk… it was through a three-way phone call (sorry, Verizon rep), and he acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about. Even though I had the evidence in front of me.

It was reminiscent of being gaslit in 2009. The echoes of trauma rang through my brain.

When he texted me after the very kind and patient rep said I wasn’t needed, I was again reminded why I left:

“I’ve been on this call for an hour and fifteen minutes and can’t understand her any better than from the first minute. I can understand Yoda better.”

Not my monkeys. Not my circus.

Then this morning, I woke up to a text from him:

“Just a heads up. I blocked my mom on Facebook. You may want to do the same or else she may message bomb you.”

His dumpster fire, not my marshmallows.

So maybe changing the mantra isn’t the KABAM. Maybe it’s my relationship with my ex.

Not my monkeys, not my circus was more about me wanting to solve things for him. I don’t want to do that anymore. I left that behind when I crossed the threshold of my old home address.

But the dumpster fire…that’s more about me being tempted into a situation that doesn’t belong to me and getting emotionally burnt in the process.

As I think about these interactions, there’s one recurring theme:

My desire to compartmentalize them. Just tuck each one neatly into a box, shove it away, and not deal with it.

Like I did when he was at the height of his addiction. It was so much easier to do than face what I’m actually feeling.

Because what I’m feeling is complex. And exhausting too.

But I’ve learned through my healing that emotional sobriety means moving through emotions, not ignoring them and shoving them into the caddy corners of my brain.

I’ve been feeling a myriad of things. At first, there was a tremendous amount of guilt. I felt guilty for moving in with my kids because I couldn’t afford to be on my own. But I’m finally able to start letting it go. They’ve done an amazing job at reminding me of my value here (and as a person).

I was also scared. Aside from the move to a new city, shout out DC! I was changing so many other things too. Finances were the biggest.

Would my job let me stay remote from so far away? Could I limit my time in the office to once a month vs. once a week?

Could I afford the financial changes that were headed my way?

What about healthcare? My doctors? My medications?

There were and still are so many unknowns.

I’ve had to work really hard to keep being okay with not knowing all my outcomes.

Accepting that the unknown is okay and I can only plan for possibilities, but I’m not a mind reader.

I can’t get wrapped up in the “What ifs” like I did after disclosure day.

After disclosure day, I lost myself (and a lot of my time) wondering about all the things I could’ve done differently. Or said differently. Questioning if things were my fault. How did I measure up to what he looked at on the screen? Going down rabbit holes of possibilities, theories, and comparing myself to others…whether they were his affair partners or people in my situation. Then ending up in an endless loop of more what if questions.

I caused myself a lot of harm.

I don’t want to do that again.

I admit, I’m a bit surprised how easily my mind wanted to revisit those places. Fifteen years later, years of therapy work, working the steps, retraining my brain, and yet…the footprints of trauma lingered.

I’m grateful for the tools I learned over the years. Who am I kidding? The tools I continue to learn.

• Journaling

• Putting my thoughts on trial

• Sharing with you, aka vulnerability (something that was foreign to me back then)

• My two paths

• Gratitude

• Reframing

• Self-esteem (technically not a tool, but for me, it came from utilizing my tools)

• Self-care

Most of all, I value my emotional sobriety. I’d be lost without it.

I understand I can't stop his dumpster fires. I can't predict which ones he'll start. Just like I can't prevent an old trauma response from occasionally flickering when I smell smoke.

But I don't have to grab a marshmallow and participate.

Let’s Stay Connected

If this resonates with you, I’d really love to know. You can comment below or email me. You’re also invited to join other Bookenders on Reddit.

And if you’re looking for deeper exercises, I wrote Bookends of Recovery & Healing Workbook to help you heal from betrayal trauma and addiction by using creative exercises, action tools, and guided reflection.

Laura 🌻