About a Dad and 3 boys our times together and interactions, not always face to face. I make the most of moments we share, whether in person or via electronic media. I expand these to my blog,to extend the feelings of being with them. I am more than this, but nothing else of me is of equal or even slightest consequence by comparison. I am unwell.Please comment. Comments encouraged and healing!
"The worst of Depression? The loneliness. The worst of loneliness? The Depression"
Sunday, 19 May 2013
DON'T GROW UP!
The Sun is on anabolics burning Pea Soup
When I began this blog it was intended to be an aid to recovery from
my personal “slough of despond” (I feel entitled to use this expression as I
once lived and worked in Slough). It quickly turned into an on line boast about
my beautiful boys.It was never supposed to be this but bizarrely this has had and is
having the effect of craning me from my mire in any case, strange how these things
come about.I have tried all kinds of treatments most with little success, this feels, so far, to be different.
Occasionally the fog falls still, but I find it hard to write
about this, something that being “anonymous” was supposed to enable. Strangely deep still within I
think I must still feel some sense of shame or similar as I still avoid it, and I
don’t really want to feel that particularly as its contrary to what I teach my
lads and counter to all the advocacy I do for others. Writing about the boys lifts me out of the miasma quickly, however it also
brings the realisation that this condition prevents much that I yearn.
A few nights ago I wrote a short blog during an onset cranial
slump. I actually posted it for 30 minutes or so but decided to delete it. I
have been trying to understand why ever since. No one that reads this blog
knows me personally with a single exception, and they know a great deal about
how this current episode was created and are of the most generous of human
spirits,(Bless you Richard!) I have been fortunate enough to meet, so why the reticence?
The truth is – I don’t know. Simple as that, maybe there is no answer,
maybe brighter minds than mine will have an understanding, I still don’t know.I hear the obvious platitudes and am guilty of occasionally using them myself, I know its none of them. (I think!).The piece I began writing was to see if the act of it would
prevent the onset of the melancholy; it didn't. What it did do was swallow me into the grey gloom, more hurriedly.At some point I will probably post a self indulgent piece along the woe is me line, so I apologise now just in case.
It was written in a stream of consciousness way and wasn't mentally edited like my writing usually is, but reading it back, I noticed the
preoccupation I seem to have with being a failed father. And there is the nub
of it.This condition means I am not able always to have the boys; the not
being able to have the boys exacerbates the condition! There is a repetitive realisation
that I cannot be the Dad I so want to be.
The cure? Well the fog fell Monday night and was lifted instantaneously
the next morning by the phone call I blogged of on Tuesday! My eldest phoned me
and asked me to be his Dad for a few minutes, in its own way it is pure magic,
one telephone call burned away the pea-souper like the Sun on anabolics.
I wrote before of how I encourage the boys to see teachers in all
people of all ages and to accept that each new friendship will bring opportunity
to understand and learn. So in order to practise what I preach I decided I
should point out what I have learnt from my children.
DAD! I KNOW WHAT WE CAN DO! PUT CHERRIES IN IT!
I have learnt that my children own the world, they glory in it
and are mesmerised by it in ways I seem to have forgotten. They have an
extraordinary capacity for acceptance. As no one has told them something is not
“normal” then they embrace it, including and especially of and in other people.
My boys cope with change more readily as a consequence of this ability to accept.
It is absolutely the case that the boys were quicker at coming to terms with
the change to their lives when their parents separated, than either parent did!
My boys trust, not the naive trust one associates with foolishness, but real
trust, the kind that is supported by the Corinthian plinths of forgiveness,
they hold no grudge, they simply move on. They L.O.V.E.; they love me, the day,
their mum, the neighbour’s dog, the walk to the shop, the trip in the car, the
bike ride, the swimming, the telly, the football, the cooking, the playing, the
cuddles, the bedtime, the stories and everything in between. I have learnt of
dinosaurs with wings that lived on the ground, of wasps that reproduce by laying
eggs in caterpillars, I've learnt what type of bike is cool and that WOW isn't for
being surprised but for talking about a video game. I have learnt that the best burgers are not the ones with a free toy, but the ones you make with each other, where you squish and squelch the meat between your fingers and roll into giant balls before slapping them flat with your hand,(so much fun!) and add your own ingredients, like herbs, or chilli flakes (put extra in that one Dad and we'll give it to L... he he he...) or Cherries? Yup! chopped up cherries, why not!I have learnt to say "why not" more often, that the
funniest thing for a child to see is an adult behaving silly, (Mr Bean would be
king if my boys were in charge!).
I worry that sometimes my blog makes the boys sound perfect, they are not of course, but they do enthral me and that, I am afraid, I simply can't hide, as you will have certainly already noticed. All this and more have I learnt, yet the one thing I have to
remember is that I CAN get better and they deserve for me to do so, because
they, never once, have shown anything but love and understanding when it has
meant they could not be with me as planned, never demanded, pleaded or sulked,
they have always just said,” Sorry you’re poorly Daddy, get some rest and get
better and we will see you next time. Love you Daddy, mwah!” I learn something new every time we speak!
Oh beautiful boys; don’t be in a hurry to grow up. It’s seriously