Surviving the Silence

I appreciate the quiet. It’s peaceful. Comforting. Contemplative. I learned to listen to what the silence tried to reveal to me. At first, the quiet was so loud, so deafening. It was horrifying. Hollowing. Harrowing. I thought the silence was the enemy, always making me feel lonely, suffocated and alone. 

Before the divorce was final, during the 60 day waiting period Texas requires, we began following the custody order we agreed upon and set in the decree. We each would have parenting time with our kids a week at a time – a week-on week-off schedule. I was so focused on the task at hand – get out and STAY out, that I didn’t let myself feel the weight of the entire situation and what it would mean when they were gone. I was focused on settling into my new life. Running errands, building furniture – such a pain in the ass btw. I even wanted to be alone at times. I didn’t want to be around anyone, I just wanted to stay focused on the task. So when the kids left, to be with him during his parenting time, I was relieved. Of course, I love my children and didn’t really like the way we had to separate every other week, but I thought of it as a necessary evil. I was still focused on the task. 

Every once in a while my sister-in-law checked in on me. We would talk on the phone, sometimes for hours. Actually, she was so concerned about the status of our relationship that she called daily. I would talk to her about what I felt. I don’t think she knew it, but she was helping reinforce my decision. Not because she would encourage it, she actually tried to do the opposite. But in me rebutting her reasons for me to stay, it solidified in my heart why I needed to leave. At some point she began to realize the pain that I was in, but that didn’t stop the calls encouraging me to consider all options. I wasn’t lonely and alone, not quite yet. My sister would call me also, but we were both in dark places at that time. I wanted to help her, I love my sister dearly and we’ve grown much closer now, but at the time, I couldn’t be what she needed me to be. I was self absorbed in my own BS. What I learned later is hyperfocus is a symptom of ADHD and Bipolar disorder – of course I was in full force on both ends. Even though I couldn’t be there for her the way she needed me to be, she was there for me.  I wasn’t alone, not quite yet.

In my hyperfocus, I was ignoring the silence creeping up my back. The heat on my neck and ears. It was following me like a predator in the shadows, waiting to pounce. When the divorce became final, I was proud of myself. I did it! I did it! I left…for good this time. He signed the papers, and we ended the divorce process amicably. 

I got out! But…now, I had no task to focus on. I slowly started to relax. I felt the barriers I set around the fear of the quiet breaking. Weight lifted off my shoulders, yes! Like I was finally letting light in…but that shadow. That shadow was slowly gaining ground. It was creeping up my back, grabbing my neck, choking me, gripping my lungs, covering my nose and mouth. ANXIETY!

The day the divorce was final, the calls from my sister-in-law stopped, sadly. My brother in law called me to say that he would miss me, his little sister, and that if they didn’t talk to me, it was because they needed time. As if, I chose to betray them and they needed to recover. That hurt my soul, but what could I do? I was devastated to cut myself off from the family that I had come to love over the last 20 years (almost 21 now). So when the calls stopped, it slapped me in the face, causing me to stumble backwards and fall closer to that shadow, allowing it to gain traction. My sister was still there for me, but she was also dealing with her own demons, I didn’t want to burden her with what I was starting to feel. Then, one Friday when it was time for the kids to leave me, again, they each gave me hugs, we shared endearing words, and then…the door slammed shut behind them. The shadow swallowed me whole in that moment. I cried. I felt a harrowing hollowness. The unfamiliar became murderous. I had a new enemy. 

A few things to note about Bipolar II Disorder, ADHD usually accompanies it, and both ADHD and Bipolar disorder can mimic each other. If you suspect you may have one or the other, I recommend a full psychological evaluation. Also, manic episodes can last for a day, a couple of hours, months, it just depends on your mental health, and the environment you are in, situational circumstances. Manic episodes can look like huge uncontrollable outbursts or like hyperfocus, euphoria – overly optimistic or in other words – sometimes delusional. For me, I was in full on mania for the entire 3 months it took for our divorce to finalize. The stress of the situation had triggered me. The fear of being alone. Fear of the unknown. I went into survival mode, with an edge. You can also become irritable, small things might make you feel slightly rageful. Another thing about Bipolar disorder is that sometimes these states seem beneficial. In this case, it helped me stay focused on the task. But when I didn’t have the task anymore, the fall took over. There is a crash that happens after being so anxious, especially for a long period of time. The crash is like an anvil suddenly weighing you down – depression that seemingly comes out of nowhere. My psychiatrist explained the phenomenon of BPD as living in a house with no ceiling or floor. Your brain is the house, the ceiling is the manic side, and the floor is the depression. Your brain cannot physically regulate itself because the hormones that push us in either direction don’t know when to turn off. 

What did that really look like for me? I was stuck in bed, crying, sleeping, not eating. Everything around me started to crumble. Things started to look shaky at work, I was isolating myself. For many years I used coping mechanisms to pull myself out of depression. It was always a hard journey back, but I thought I knew what to do. I didn’t have the help of medication. I never considered seeking medicated help during our marriage. I couldn’t think about myself, because I was always walking on eggshells. I had to monitor my steps so as not to upset my abuser. Of course, I didn’t think of it that way when we were married, I just didn’t want him to take away his love – his attention. This time, pulling myself out felt hopeless no matter what I tried. One of the things I would do is listen to motivational podcasts or videos on YouTube. There were a few that would help, like a flint sparking, but the wood, my soul, would’nt catch fire. Not until I stumbled upon a sermon, by someone I had never heard of. Sarah Jakes Roberts. The name of the sermon was Girl Get Up. Of course I clicked on it. The title spoke to me because I literally could not get out of bed. After I watched it…I moved. Embers were crackling. A short while later, I decided to seek professional help. I spoke to a psychiatrist, and discussed my current situation and my family history. I was diagnosed and prescribed medication to help me… essentially get out of bed.

Within a month or two the medication started working. I was starting to see the light. Those crackling embers burst into flames and I was alive again. I began to feel hopeful, that I would soon be joyous. I became grateful for that anvil that crushed my spirit, because I now felt powerful enough to lift it off me. That is when the quiet went from enemy to ally. I started feeling like the silence gave me the opportunity to examine my life. It was giving me time to think. It was still loud, but now it was bearable. Eventually, it became comforting. I started to even appreciate all the pain that I accumulated over the years that we were together. I can look back and feel proud of myself for overcoming each trial.  Even more powerful was the recognition in knowing that I could love myself more than my desire to nurture him or anyone else. That is also when I decided to get my first tattoo. It was a butterfly that had the words ‘I love me more” in the wings (I’ve since expanded it and made those words stand out even more). I wanted a reminder to never ignore myself, my needs, my heart, my body, my soul ever again. I wanted a physical representation to remember that I NEED to love myself more than anyone else in order to care for myself the way that no one else can. Trust me, that makes you a better person, a better parent and friend. 

So yeah, I welcome the silence now. I know that every experience is a lesson. This lesson, learning how to sit with myself, helped me understand that I hold the power to overcome the fear of being alone. I learned how to seek out the resources I needed. In doing so, I turned my face away from darkness and felt the light kissing my face. It was like embracing an old friend. I finally felt free of the shadow that once conquered me. I never would have come to love this quiet peacefully, had I not witnessed its thunder in the beginning.