Divorce Settlement Agreements—What I’d Do Differently

One of the important steps in the divorce process is the Settlement Agreement. A piece of advice—get exactly how much money you want. Not just what you need. Now that I have 20-20 hindsight, I would do things a little differently.

I can’t be too hard on myself. I was afraid of my husband so I didn’t want to make any waves.

All of my friends urged me to get a lump sum because they knew he wouldn’t pay alimony. I couldn’t believe it. Even though my ex was an abusive, controlling, betraying person, my mind wouldn’t fathom him not being honest in his dealings with me. My friend, a divorce lawyer in another state, told me all of his court cases revolve around women who are trying to get the alimony owed by their deadbeat husbands.

My first glance at the reality my ex would not keep up alimony payments happened when he offered to give me only one year of alimony in an agreement he forged during divorce mediation. He thought he was being generous. In his mind, I didn’t deserve anything. He said he knew I would agree with him, in principle, that he put all the sweat equity into our marriage.

I asked him if he included the thirty-six months I spent being pregnant with his four children. Isn't that sweat equity? He wasn’t convinced what I did had any merit because he brought in the money. I think you get the picture of what I was up against.

We got our house appraised and put it on the market. He got nervous because we didn’t get one nibble in a month’s time. The market was in a downturn. He decided to take it off the market. After that, he actually told me he didn’t want a divorce. The writing was on the wall--he would have to buy me out. He didn’t want to.

He reasoned with me that our money was fluid, why should we get a divorce? He wanted everything to stay status-quo. After hearing that, I told him I did want a divorce, I would get a lawyer and a court order to get him out. He quickly changed his tune, knowing he would have to pay $$ for that.

In a short period of time, he became anxious to have me out. He was active on dating sites and probably had some nibbles.  After many back-and-forth counter agreements, I came up with a sum in my head and told him that’s what I wanted, and what he needed to do for me to “go away.”

We went to the bank to see how much they would give my husband in a loan to buy me out. It was short of the sum I wanted.

I gave in and took a lesser number because he threw up his hands and said he couldn’t give any more. Why did I give in? The difference I lost out on could have been his alimony payment in monthly installments for about two years. Two years of alimony after a 30+-year marriage. In Pennsylvania, I was entitled to one year of alimony for every three years of marriage.

I think I was anxious to make my exit, to protect myself, and I shied away from the confrontation it would have taken. I couldn't gamble with my life that his abuse wouldn't accelerate.

His mortgage payment turned out to be the same price someone would pay to rent an apartment. Even our mediator said he got a very good deal.

After I left and established myself with a full-time job in another state, but making a “supplemental income” three times less than what he makes, I felt cheated. The lump sum I received paid for a modest twin home, but I really could have used a monthly payment coming in on top of that lump sum.

I’m just saying. . . stick to your guns. Don’t back down. Don’t give in. Work out what you need and then add to that number. Protect yourself. Emergencies happen. I had an accident that involved two surgeries on my ankle. It took me a few years to pay this off. Alimony payments would have come in handy.

Don’t get me wrong, I am blessed and I know it. I’m blessed that I got money from the house. My children are adults so I don’t have to worry about feeding my kids when the deadbeat doesn’t provide. I’m blessed to have a job and a reason to wake up in the morning. I am so blessed to have supportive friends and family.

What would you do differently in your divorce settlement?

PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder: Part II

It was a dream—a nightmare. It felt real. It was three-dimensional. I would swear it really happened.

A few days before my son was to move out, I dreamt that he and my daughter were in my kitchen on moving day. My sons-in-law were in the basement getting the furniture. My son and my daughter were having a conversation with gestures to the door and glances at me.

I asked, “What are you whispering about?”

They looked at each other and my son said, “Dad’s here and he’s going to help with the move.”

I freaked out. “I do NOT want that man anywhere near my house! I don’t want him in my neighborhood!” I screamed and acted like a crazy person. My son tried to calm me down. I saw the door open and knew it was my ex-husband walking in the door.

“AAAHHH!” I screamed at the top of my lungs in my dream, but no sound came out, like my vocal chords were paralyzed. I jumped up and down, like in a temper tantrum, thumping my hands through the air. My mouth and body were only going through the motions.

 

Just like in the movies, I woke up with a start, sat up and was panting like I’d just run a marathon. But it was real. I know it happened.

It was early in the morning, the sun just coming up. I got up and checked my kitchen to see if my kids were here. “It’s not moving day,” I told myself. “Nobody’s coming through the door.”

I got back in bed, one more hour until my alarm was set to go off, to get me up for work that day.

A few days later, it was moving day. I rationalized their father would not travel across the country to help my son move a few pieces of furniture and a few boxes.

Still I panicked whenever I thought about it. I had heart palpitations all morning, expecting my ex-husband to show up, yet knowing he wouldn’t. Yet questioning . . .

Does this story sound familiar? Nightmares, panic, heart palpitations, paranoia? Blame Post Traumatic Stress Disorder—PTSD.

Though I don’t have minor children or a court-ordered custody arrangement, I still feel stressed to think someday I will have to see my abusive ex-husband. There will be weddings, college graduations, christenings and baptisms. I’ve already been through one wedding right after my divorce. It was so extremely difficult to even be in the same room with him, let alone stand in a receiving line with him.

I can’t imagine having children who need to be handed off to the errant parent and having to SEE him/her on a regular basis. My very, dear friend has minor children and says seeing her ex makes her go to her panic place (that’s what I call it) and it’s hard not to let it show in front of her kids. Children are amazingly intuitive.

With PTSD, one’s brain goes on a loop, thinking of the “terrible awful” memories harbored within (to quote Minnie from “The Help” for a minute). As time goes by, and distance is allowed from the abusive spouse, those stressful times may lessen, but it often take years.

Healing might be possible quicker if you don’t see the spouse. Absence makes the heart grow stronger, in this case. With grown kids, you can turn the other cheek—and walk away. It’s not that easy with custody exchanges.

My friend seeks the healing wisdom of appealing to our Father in Heaven on a daily basis. She said, “Every day, I make a conscious decision to start my day by ‘choosing’ the Lord.”

Her day begins with prayer, reading scriptures, writing in her journal and listening to uplifting talks by church leaders.

My friend said, “When I do that, I feel the ‘life’ trickle back into me. I feel refreshed and ready to lead my little family along the path of our wilderness with energy and enthusiasm.”

That, my friends, is the number one way to help yourself during a divorce. Prayer. All the pat answers of Sunday School will never steer you wrong.

 

My kids are adults, and, despite the nightmare I had, they know where I stand about their father, at least for now. They might not understand, but they know I don’t ever want to have to see him again.

 

I know I will have to one day. I still have two unmarried children and one college graduation to get through. In the future there will be grandchildren events. Maybe by then I’ll be stronger. Maybe I’ll be able to take it.

 

Healing might come. I’m just not there yet, so I can’t say.

 

How do you cope with child visitation? Do you have nightmares or PTSD loops?