Back when I was married, I would have a lot of trouble not thinking about trying to get pregnant. These thoughts are always on my mind. It was hard to escape them. Imagine every time you have sex with your spouse you wonder, “Is this the time I’m going to get pregnant?” Yeah, that was how my life was. It was all-consuming.
I’m happy to report that I don’t have those thoughts anymore. Since getting divorced, it has been like my brain has been rebooted. I often go days and sometimes weeks without even thinking about the idea of getting pregnant or having a family. Sometimes when I stop and think about it it’s hard for me to imagine, looking back, that I’ve gotten to this point. Again, those thoughts were constant and always on the forefront of my mind. It was as if I’d been suffering from a form of tunnel vision for years. Maybe my divorce was a trigger to snap me out of it. It is nice no be able to have sex with someone without that wonder clouding my enjoyment of the act itself.
Now, several years later, I find that my brain has found a replacement for the baby-making tunnel vision. My myopic thoughts now revolve around food. I’ve been on Weight Watchers for over a year now and have made zero progress. I do continue to go to the weekly meetings, and have not missed more than two weeks since I started. This new train of thought is at least different than infertility in the sense that I have total control over whether or not this works. If that’s the case, then why am I so narrow-minded about it all?
Sure, some people have tunnel vision about finances, while others have tunnel vision about not having enough free time. For me the issue, at least for the last few years, is always food. I don’t know how this started, but I sure as hell need to figure out how to end it. I wonder if the answer is to develop tunnel vision on some other activity. Maybe I need a new hobby to get completely obsessed with. The problem with this, in my opinion, is that being “obsessed” isn’t the answer. I need to get to the root of the issue and hope the light at the end of my tunnel isn’t a train.