Alone Together, Again

<i>I spent so much time trying to organize the life that I thought I wanted. It wasn’t the same as living.</i><p>Every single time I've tried to push my life in a direction, tried to bend it to my will, it has blown up in my face. So, while I have things I'd like to do and places I'd like to go, I've learned to just let things unfold as they may. I try to influence and guide it, but I don't push it anymore.<p>I think it comes down to my reaction to the results of trying to push it. When I'm letting it glide, I'm unconcerned about things going in the wrong direction and am happy when they do. If I'm trying to push it, I wind up concerned when things go in the wrong direction and not particularly happy when they do (that was where they were supposed to go, after all).<p>I learned this lesson at a much older age than I should have.

The fast-paced tech industry often has this effect on its devotees. People like Alex live their lives at an accelerated rate. They work hard. They make their money at a young age. They compare themselves and their lives to the people around them -- people often twice their age -- and wonder why they don't have what their elders often have: family, children, a sense of self-understanding. Alex is young; 27 years old, if I'm not mistaken. He's done more, created more, and experienced more than most people his age, including having a four-year marriage. Do you remember what four years of anything felt like when you were his age? It's an eternity. His angst at having lost it and, in part, his realization that the life he was constructing for himself was not the life he wanted, is completely justified.<p>He deserves immense credit for showing this level of transparency. If you haven't taken some lesson away from this post, then you need to re-read it. It's not about empathy; it's about the importance of self-discovery.

“Divorce is always good news. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true because no good marriage has ever ended in divorce. It’s really that simple. That’s never happened – THAT would be sad. If two people were married and they were really happy and they just had a great thing, and then they got divorced, that would be really sad. But that has happened zero times. Literally zero.”<p>Louis CK

Thank you so much for posting this Alex.<p>I'm young enough for marriage to seem distant, and my parents are still married, yet more than half of the children I grew up with had divorced parents and I have several separated family members.<p>It's not uncommon for most of the families on a suburb block to be divorced, especially in certain areas (most of my affluent white friends had antagonistically divorced parents, mainly due to money)[1]. The U.S. still has a large problem with divorce (~50%), and especially with divorce among families with children.<p>Divorce is far too often considered "taboo", as stated in this article, which is quite a travesty because I've found discussion can provide great benefit to not only those already affected by it, but those contemplating long term relationships. We consider divorce a "failure" in modern society, and in my opinion that's very often not the case. Many times divorce can mean simply a resolution of irreconcilable differences. However the law, lack of openness and general societal pressure can turn even amicable splits ugly.<p>In the end I've found closure like the OP describes always the most helpful: realization that life continues to go on, and even things that you relate with the old relationship (in this case, technology) will still be there as they always were.<p>[1] I feel it's important to note that divorce rates are highly variable dependent upon ethnic groups and demographics

This June i jokingly told my fiance "I wish you a great husband" on her birthday. She laughed. I laughed. 2 months later and 1 month before our wedding we separated in the most disgusting, disturbing way possible. The joke was also on me. I was alone and devastated. Then suicidal. Then just hopeless and completely alone. I'm not sure i know how to cope with this. Life as a gigantic lesson, never meant to be completely understood. You have to accept, reflect, move on and hope for the best. I think you've managed to fight at least half of the battle. Very interesting read. I wish you the best. I think you're almost there!

Christ, commenters, lighten up. Not every emotional blog post is a heartless grab for attention. If you don't like it, just ignore it and go do something else. Don't punch the guy just for the hell of it.

Having lived through a similar experience as Al3x, my biggest take-aways after the fact were:<p>- If she/he finds enjoyment from it [pick anything] then encourage it. Don't find a fault in it and be an ass.<p>- Comments and attitudes over time do matter. Don't be condescending. You're not "all that." You may think you are, but you're not.<p>- Everyone has dreams. They may not align with yours. That's OK, if you aren't narcissistic and an egoist. Look in the mirror from time to time.<p>Everyone wants to be loved. Everyone wants to be appreciated. All work is honorable.

The point that the OP seems to understand, but doesn't explicitly state, is that no life situation, however apparently solid, lasts forever. The first section has a distinct tone of numbed acceptance, the voice of someone who has just experienced absolute horror, and who's view of the world is far more balanced than an ordinary persons. Most of us live under the delusion that we are safe, that our situation is safe, and that tomorrow will be better. This is comforting, and probably useful as a coping mechanism. But it's not true. No matter how healthy you are, you could get sick. No matter how solid your job, you could lose it. No matter how much you love your wife or you think she loves you, she could have an affair and ask for a divorce.<p>When pain stacks upon pain stacks upon pain until you can't take it and then it keeps going even more for an unimaginable time, something burns away in you, leaving you a kind of stark clarity about the world and yourself. It is a realistic view, but not a happy one. I believe they call it 'shock'.<p>What we conventionally call 'happy' is actually a pleasant delusion. (Luckily?) this delusion is quite resilient! It seeps back into us, and we start to believe, once again, that everything is actually going to be okay <i>this time around</i>.<p>You wouldn't think it, but I think it's easier if you don't suffer this sort of torment alone. Consider the life-bending events of 9/11. Overall, I'd say that New Yorkers recovered emotionally really, really fast, mainly because <i>everyone</i> felt that horror and shock. But personal tragedy like this is tough because our culture tolerates friendship that doesn't tolerate "general unpleasantness". Anyone going through this will be a wreck, that's a given. But so often friends will turn their back, unable or unwilling to endure the unpleasant inconvenience of a friend in dire need. This is, of course, inhuman.<p>So yes, kudos for a well-written piece, and may you find happiness once again (you will).

I found myself stopping to digest several phrases. On top of being courageous and open about your experiences, you certainly have a way with words.<p>Thank you for your honesty. As someone who lacks life experience, I sincerely appreciate your perspective.

I had the good fortune to meet Al3x this year while he was traveling, before this article was published in The Magazine. I heard most of this story over drinks in Berlin.<p>Had I heard the same kind of story from just about anyone else, I think it would have been pretty uneventful, but to sit across from someone so undeterred by some of life's largest challenges was pretty moving. I imagine the sort of outward displays of not-really-togetherness I'd probably display under similar circumstances, and Al3x's matter-of-fact and direct way of dealing with it was pretty inspirational. It totally comes through in this piece, too.<p>What a guy.

&#62; I packed up what was left, put all but necessities into storage. Sold my car.<p>(Not directly related to the article, but) : In the West, is it always the husband that has to leave the house? I once saw a movie in which the husband comes home and discovers that he being offered a divorce, and the wife says, "Leave my home". She was a stay-at-home wife, and he was working. I found it odd that she refers to it "my home" rather than "our home" or "the home" or "I think it is better if we both live apart", which is more civil.<p>If so, it's a cultural dictum, rather than a legal one, right?<p>(I am from India and I don't know many divorced people).

<i>I spent four years telling anyone who asked how we met that OkCupid’s matching algorithms must have been off. “We were only a seventysomething percent match, with like a twelve percent chance of being enemies. Guess they need to work some bugs out!” The joke’s on me, of course. I emailed the right person at OkCupid to apologize for the years of disparagement.</i><p>This about a 4 year relationship? The whole thing reads like someone who needs to do a lot more self-reflection.

A while back I moved, and my Mom asked me if I felt at home yet. I told her, "I felt at home the moment I plugged in the first ethernet cable."

Probably one of the most human pieces on HN. The comments so far are enlightening.

There is nothing meaningful or worthwhile in life, just living until you aren't. A lot of comments talk about flow or busyness and there is some truth that we find some happiness in adding to ourselves. That is, in perfecting a skill so that it becomes "second nature." I'm not entirely convinced; it seems like it's just a way to distract your awareness from the reality of your existence.<p>There is an old Chinese proverb (the beauty of which is probably lost in the butchery of my translation):<p>"Life is like honey-gathering bees, After collecting all the honey from myriad flowers, They age and their labor leaves them with nothing."

The bright side of course is that the world is open right now in a way it's <i>never</i> been before. I've spent the last two years bouncing around the globe, mostly in SE Asia. Thanks to the internet and a remotable skillset I can land in a new city tomorrow and have income and probably new contacts willing to show me around town.<p>This kind of thing is always traumatic but it's a great time to be a hacker with no ties.

<i>Busy, busy, busy, is what we Bokononists whisper whenever we think of how complicated and unpredictable the machinery of life really is.</i>

"It is taking time to make things whole again..."<p>Try saying: 'It is taking time to make things "feel" whole again.'<p>I know it's a small difference, but it provides (imho) a more accurate perspective. Perspective is a lot, if not everything.<p>Point is, you're already whole, but it takes time to feel it.

&#62; Maybe technology made it all too easy to slide into a life I wasn’t meant to have. It would be so convenient to think that way. Marriage didn’t work out? Blame the dating site.<p>Some people probably do believe that a dating site is the one to blame. Sad.

I can relate. When this happened in my life, I listened to Dave Mason's "Look at You, Look at Me" a lot, which is, interestingly enough, from the album Alone Together.

can we hack divorce, hack life, hack being alone?

Alex,<p>Thank you so very much for sharing your story. This degree of honesty is far too rare and is absolutely commendable. More appropriately, your story resonates in strong sympathy with mine.<p><i>"I owe my life to technology."</i><p>Those who've never uttered this are simply unable to grasp the extensive implications of such a notion. Even in those who don't openly admit it, it eventually manifests itself; often in bizarre ways. A friend of mine has the "transistor" symbol tattooed across his forearm; another wears small electrical components as jewellery. Neither are able to readily admit just how much technology has effected their lives; particularly to their partners. This failure of honesty was the downfall of my most cherished relationship, and many since. And I fear, many hereafter.<p><i>"I tried to imagine what my life would be like in the wake of all this if I had been living two hundred years ago. Most likely, I would be trapped. I would be living in the scraps of the life that had unraveled around me. I could not seek the support of friends from around the world at any time of day or night. I could not book passage to wherever I felt I needed to escape to. I couldn’t work from wherever I happen to end up. Trapped."</i><p>The truth is: our fixation on all things technological is merely a symptom of what's otherwise a distinct disease. We yearn for a life less ordain, less automated and yet it's these very concepts we attempt to employ in our escape. We've been sold a lie. In the past, escaping to seek counsel was much easier. There were entire unchartered continents boasting unique foreigners with novel, enlightening perspectives. Sure, technology has made these endeavours vastly more efficient, in terms of both time and work. But at what cost? It is my observation that in our advancements, we dilute our power to transmute our problems into solutions. Meanwhile, technology has not universally transformed the degree to which all members of our species cooperate. The shifting all of our burdens onto what we believe will save us, in this case technology, has been incredibly disempowering for us all. The problem has never been in our technology, or lack thereof; it was, and always will be, in us.<p><i>"It is now nearing mid-November and, despite a hurricane and a freak snowstorm and the general insanity that is this place, I’m still here."</i><p>That you are. If ever your answer to the question "Am I alive?" is "Yes", then your purpose here on this planet has most certainly not yet been realised.<p>You are going to make it.<p>Eyes open. No fear.