Life, Stress, and Everything

 I feel out of sorts.

Yesterday, after my fifth meeting with a new therapist, I told him that it just wasn't working out. He didn't seem to understand just what I was saying, and he wanted to take cues from me, even when I told him I was trying to figure that out. I got given a lot of strategies and documents, only a quarter of which were really pertinent to me.

And then I had a little freak-out. Crying and saying "I just don't want to be like this!" to myself in the mirror, disheartened because I'm really truly trying my best to get better, and it's not working. I felt really broken then.

This morning, while crossing to school, a neighbor I've met a couple times was walking his kids to school, and while Echo was in front, said, "All right, let's go!" and beckoned everyone forward.

He thought the crossing guard was waving us forward. Nope. The crossing guards was waving cars across. So Echo went riding out into oncoming traffic, and barely stopped himself in time. He freaked out, saying, "Why did he do that? I hate him! I could have been hit by a car!"

And I've been struggling with that for the whole day. I'm shaken by it, and everything feels tenuous and unreal. I feel bad and out of sorts and just wish that the world would leave me alone for a while while my mind gets itself together.

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel these feelings. They're not productive, but I don't believe in bottling up my feelings unless they're truly harmful. This almost feels like grief, but with a fear instead of a sadness.

I'm tired of feeling like I'm behind where I want to be. I can't react to my kids normally, thanks to an oversensitive "INTERVENE AND FIX THE PROBLEM" response I got over the pandemic, living in someone else's house with three young rowdy children, living by someone else's rules, and being yelled at when I tried to apologize. I couldn't keep up, but I tried. And now I have this.

I'm trying things without medication for the moment. I've gone through four different kinds, and none of them have been good. I may go back onto something if things get bad, but I'm determined to at least give this method a fighting chance. (Getting a misaligned therapist definitely didn't help.)

I think I do okay keeping my life above water when I feel like I'm drowning. I go to the gym, I keep up with friends, and I tell people how I feel. I don't force myself to act happy when I'm not, and I apologize when the stress overwhelms me.

I hope things get better. And I hope they get better while I still have a chance to be a good dad. I feel like I'm either overextending myself or like I'm not doing enough for my kids. Or both, actually, these days.

Echo quickly mastering the hoverboard.

Crash giving his cousin a piggyback at the fun run!

Daniel and his fresh new cousin!

The Hours Of The Day

The long and the short of it is, I feel like I have less time than everyone else, and my time is less efficient.

Even on my medication, I've been needing a nap in the middle of the day. I woke up this morning from ten hours of sleep, and even then, I had to drag myself out of bed. I could go back right now and sleep another ten.

I'm still always tired, and with my anti-stress medication, doing anything outside of my routine takes a lot of energy. My stress is dulled, and so is my motivation, and so is my joy.

With everything pared away, what's routine for me?

Cleaning the house is routine. Doing the laundry is routine. Reading books is routine. Making dinner is routine. Being kind is routine. Going to the gym is routine. Talking to my brothers is routine.

I'm coming to a sort of acceptance that having children has essentially stopped my life in its tracks. They drain me completely whenever they fight, which happens all of the time. I will not come out of this stronger. I will come out of this changed. My health is worse because of it, my stress is worse because of it.

But after nearly a decade of this, I think I'm okay.

I like who I am, even when my light is dimmer than it was, when I have to hide from my kids. I can still feel happy every now and then, and I know I'm lucky to have Jessi.

I know that in many years, I'll be wondering where the years went, how I aged so much while only having half the hours of the day that everyone else has, and I think I'll probably hold that grief for the rest of my life.

Crash Boy flinging his backpack at me. It hurts!

Daniel passing out programs at the 5th grade musical. He prefers to work behind the scenes, and I love him.

These snugglebugs are playing videogames on the couch, and I love that this is somehow comfortable for them.