Breaking My Silence: Chapter 4

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 4. Coping Mechanisms.

1. Silence
I’ve already addressed this topic in the previous posts, so I won’t go much more into it here. It was fairly simple, to my mind. Suffering in silence not only allowed me to ignore the problem for the most part, but I also hoped to minimize it and spare Nate any undue stress. Obviously he must have been suffering on his own, but the less I brought it up, the more I felt I was helping. Of course we had our private discussions from time to time. But I would keep my biggest fears and worries to myself, partly because I could never really figure out how to put into words exactly what I was feeling, but mostly to spare him. No doubt he was having similar feelings but crying about it wasn’t going to change or fix anything… I thought.

2. The Gym
The gym became an outlet for my pent up anger and frustration. Throwing around some heavy weights and feeling strong in at least one area of my life really gave me a sense of control and accomplishment. It bolstered my self-esteem. It gave me an identity which I had had the power to choose for myself, rather than one that had been thrust upon me, and I relished that. At the gym, I could walk around and feel powerful, perhaps even high and mighty. And it sounds outrageously conceited, but I felt that if I could excel at something others often failed at, maybe I could count us even, since I was failing at making a family. It eased the guilt with which I always seemed to feel weighed down, even if only temporarily. Pushing my body so hard physically provided a type of therapy for me to leave all my baggage at the door and focus entirely on something else. But I could also use the time alone with myself to quietly ponder and reflect without any distractions; sort out my emotions. Draw conclusions and make decisions about how I was going to feel and approach certain aspects of the problem. Endorphins were a great conductor for epiphanies.

3. Humor
In fact, one of these conclusions was that if I maintained a sense of humor (even if I was the only one who thought I was funny), I could minimize the severity, keep control of my emotions, and deflect awkward or insensitive comments. I could shut people up pretty quickly with a carefully constructed joke or bit of sarcasm. Nate became an expert at this, and the devil in me will always appreciate my knight-in-shining-armor for that. It’s terrible, but I admit that I enjoyed making people squirm and feel guilty for the thoughtless remarks that could never be recalled. Revenge was bittersweet. My humor was black and backhanded… I suppose I was the only one laughing most of the time. But it put a band-aid over the ache in my bleeding heart that careless words could so easily rip open. In my mind, it was like sticking my tongue out and saying, "So there!"

4. Obsession
Obsession has its perks and detriments. I have learned so much about endometriosis facts and statistics, infertility as related to endo and in general, in vitro, surrogacy, all the different types of adoption, fertility drugs, pregnancy, complications, even all the different theories and philosophies about child rearing… etc. How I crave more knowledge of all things having remotely anything to do with the situation. I am constantly searching for stories like mine; stories and people (whether real or fictional) that I can relate to in order to not feel so isolated. I have an overwhelming sense of urgency to know, in a desperate attempt to ease my fears. But that is where my obsessive behavior takes a detrimental downturn. The more I find out, the more fearful I become. My fears multiply as my research often unearths concepts I’d never thought of before and I become filled with more questions than answers. I cannot help but deliberately put myself in situations that will inevitably break my heart. Yet I can’t stop. I must know.

5. Filling the Void
Despite what may or may not be a popularly-held belief, I think I do have a bit of maternal instinct, however remote it may be. I enjoy keeping house (or rather, having a well-kept house), baking, and doting on loved ones. My affections and attempt at nurturing behavior currently have no where else to fall than on Nate and my pets and so they are my outlet. I'm sometimes embarrassed by how much I talk about my cat and pups, but what else have I to gush about? I have a picture of Hans as my desktop wallpaper at work and everytime I see it I smile and miss him. Scoff if you must, but he is just one of my babies, and I'll fully admit that I feel motherly toward him (and the others... but him especially, for some reason. He is mine. Don't tell the others).

6. Speaking out
I am only just beginning to explore this coping mechanism and I must admit that so far, it has been very rewarding, and actually healing. I’ve never put a voice or order to the majority of these words I’ve written in the last week, until now. It has been unbelievably liberating. I almost wish I would have done this sooner, but then I realize that I couldn’t have. The only reason I am able to articulate everything in such an organized and objective way now is because I’ve finally reached a place of peace in my heart. This story could not have been told from any other perspective than that.

Until next time.