Ah, another weekend.
Most people look forward to weekends. I prefer weekdays.
Saturday featured a terrible beginning. Got woken up early by my wife getting read to go to a flea market. She’s not exactly quiet, but usually I can sleep through it. Seems lately I have been waking up earlier and going to bed later. Melissa and I have sort of been “at each other” for the last 3 or 4 days. I know part of that is that she’s irritable from that thing we aren’t supposed to talk about (sorry, ladies, not playing on a stereo-type. I think she’d ‘fess to it as well.) and part has been that she’s upset about the move. Sometimes we all each are excited, and other times we each are saddened and in the “I don’t want to leave/do this” mode. She’s in the latter at present. When anyone but me is in the “I don’t want to do this” mode it makes me feel bad and guilty because I know that we are moving BECAUSE of me and me alone. And its confusing because this is what Melissa has always wanted: To move “back home” and, now that she’s got it, she doesn’t want it. The rest of why we’ve been at each other is me. Some of it is the guilt I feel. Some is just a general irritability I’ve had with Melissa that I can’t identify, yet.
So, I woke up and, somehow, it feels like I got lambasted right out of the blocks about the way I’ve been acting. It might not have hurt so badly, except Melissa stated in terms of “Even Maggie has said to me that you haven’t been being nice to me. And she’s upset because you are ‘cussing’ so much.” That part is accurate. I don’t know what’s driving it, but for several weeks, maybe longer, my verbal impulse control has been diminished. I swear out loud without much thought about whether the kids are around or not. I know I’m doing it, but it doesn’t occur to me until after the words are already out. And its not swearing AT anyone. Its swearing about frustration with a THING or situation usually. So, anyway, the fact that Maggie was brought in as being upset with me hurt very much.
I feel like I’ve been trying SO HARD to be a good dad, now that I’m more able. I’ve been getting up early and cooking Maggie breakfast, doing more things with her (I took her to a 5k race last weekend) and generally been more engaged. And it feels like instead of seeing and acknowledging all of that effort, everyone is focusing on the negatives and bashing me with them. This morning, I was just overwhelmed by this “I can’t win” feeling. For the first time in a month, I cried. Just laid in bed and cried. It wasn’t the real “depressed cry”, it was just a sad “I can’t win” cry, a cry from overwhelming frustration, like whatever I do just isn’t enough. More than anything, more than the substance of the incident with Melissa itself, I’m was most bothered by this worry that things are coming apart. A couple bad starts this week, a little bit of a general lack of tolerance with Mic. I’m just seeing these little cracks in the wall against my illness I’ve worked so hard to build and worrying that the foundation is crumbling.
Adter I got up and got ready to go play racquetball, I sat at my computer, wrote, and listened to Dave Mathews. Always very calming. I decided that I just needed a little extra effort today. Watch my potty-mouth and be diligent about my positive approach to things in general. – I WILL work through this, but its going to take some work.- As my therapist said “You didn’t get a vaccination against depression or feeling bad. Everyone is in that boat from time to time. Its what you do with it that matters.”
I’ve been realizing this “fear” I’ve had since some of my earliest childhood memories: The fear of being abandoned or left alone in the world. I remember when I was a kid, like 7 or 8, there was this orphanage right up the road from our home. We past it every time we went anywhere. I had this fear that my parents were going to take me there and leave me. For a while, every time my parents were on the phone, I would listen to see if they were arranging the “drop-ff” at the orphanage. Growing up, I was worried about my friends leaving me. I especially worried about girlfriends kicking me to the curb for acting wrong or screwing up. Now, I’m just amazed that Melissa hasn’t sent me packing for all I’ve put her through. Strange how that fear or paranoia has been with me throughout my lifetime, but I’ve never really focused on it until now.
Sunday went pretty well. I got up and went for a run with a couple of friends. Just a 3.5 miler (which in the scheme of a marathon training season is a “nothing” run.) Dan, one of the guys, is in better shape than both Brad and I. We mistakenly let him set the pace on the way out (we ran an out and back, out 17 minutes (1.75 miles) and back.) Dan and I both had a dog with us. I was hurting from the start and thinking it was just me. This was my 8th day in a row of leg work (running or racquetball), and I just figured that it was general fatigue. On the way back, I was just crashing (legs ached and breathing felt really labored) and had to walk several times to get things together (unusual for any of us to pull up and walk mid-run.) It wasn’t until I got done that I realized that we were running what must have been 9:00 miles or just under on the way out. My treadmill pace has been 10:15 miles or so (**I’m Slow, I Know, Get Over it** is one of my favorite t-shirts.). Doing all of my running on the ‘mill’ is great , but it denies me the chance to learn to set my own pace. So, although the lack of a rest day in the last 8 days made the run less than I wanted it to be, at least I know it was a pace problem. Not just me being a wuss. J I got to take my lab mix, Beau, out with me. He’s five, and this is his first real run. He did great and acted like a complete gentleman. He qualifies to go again soon. I had him hooked to my water bottle belt, and he gives a little pull like a sled dog.
The rest of the day was good except for dealing with my son. I get frustrated with myself for getting so frustrated with him. Remember, he is one of my two identified triggers. He just has this total lack of ability to “go find something to do.” He’s right on top of someone all of the time, and that’s annoying. When I told him to find something to do for the 5th time, he said “I can’t think of anything!” in a very rude, *I’m about to lose it* tone. I rolled off a few ideas: his new scooter, video game (hand-held that he just HAD to have), bike, skates, skateboards, books, his model, movies, TV, playstation in his room. His response, of the ten things I listed, was “I don’t have a playstation in my room! Maggie has it in her room.” Of all the things he did have, he focused on the one thing he didn’t have. Classic Mic. Classic *awefulizing.* He was *triggering* most of the day, which led to an escalation and outburst about 2:00 when asked to help with getting the house clean and ready to show to buyers. I told him, at that point, that he had lost his opportunity to be around me for the day, that I was having a pretty good day and I wasn’t going to let him ruin it with his lack of control. That’s the way it ended, and I kept my mood fairly in check. I’m glad tomorrow’s Monday.
Saturday featured a terrible beginning. Got woken up early by my wife getting read to go to a flea market. She’s not exactly quiet, but usually I can sleep through it. Seems lately I have been waking up earlier and going to bed later. Melissa and I have sort of been “at each other” for the last 3 or 4 days. I know part of that is that she’s irritable from that thing we aren’t supposed to talk about (sorry, ladies, not playing on a stereo-type. I think she’d ‘fess to it as well.) and part has been that she’s upset about the move. Sometimes we all each are excited, and other times we each are saddened and in the “I don’t want to leave/do this” mode. She’s in the latter at present. When anyone but me is in the “I don’t want to do this” mode it makes me feel bad and guilty because I know that we are moving BECAUSE of me and me alone. And its confusing because this is what Melissa has always wanted: To move “back home” and, now that she’s got it, she doesn’t want it. The rest of why we’ve been at each other is me. Some of it is the guilt I feel. Some is just a general irritability I’ve had with Melissa that I can’t identify, yet.
So, I woke up and, somehow, it feels like I got lambasted right out of the blocks about the way I’ve been acting. It might not have hurt so badly, except Melissa stated in terms of “Even Maggie has said to me that you haven’t been being nice to me. And she’s upset because you are ‘cussing’ so much.” That part is accurate. I don’t know what’s driving it, but for several weeks, maybe longer, my verbal impulse control has been diminished. I swear out loud without much thought about whether the kids are around or not. I know I’m doing it, but it doesn’t occur to me until after the words are already out. And its not swearing AT anyone. Its swearing about frustration with a THING or situation usually. So, anyway, the fact that Maggie was brought in as being upset with me hurt very much.
I feel like I’ve been trying SO HARD to be a good dad, now that I’m more able. I’ve been getting up early and cooking Maggie breakfast, doing more things with her (I took her to a 5k race last weekend) and generally been more engaged. And it feels like instead of seeing and acknowledging all of that effort, everyone is focusing on the negatives and bashing me with them. This morning, I was just overwhelmed by this “I can’t win” feeling. For the first time in a month, I cried. Just laid in bed and cried. It wasn’t the real “depressed cry”, it was just a sad “I can’t win” cry, a cry from overwhelming frustration, like whatever I do just isn’t enough. More than anything, more than the substance of the incident with Melissa itself, I’m was most bothered by this worry that things are coming apart. A couple bad starts this week, a little bit of a general lack of tolerance with Mic. I’m just seeing these little cracks in the wall against my illness I’ve worked so hard to build and worrying that the foundation is crumbling.
Adter I got up and got ready to go play racquetball, I sat at my computer, wrote, and listened to Dave Mathews. Always very calming. I decided that I just needed a little extra effort today. Watch my potty-mouth and be diligent about my positive approach to things in general. – I WILL work through this, but its going to take some work.- As my therapist said “You didn’t get a vaccination against depression or feeling bad. Everyone is in that boat from time to time. Its what you do with it that matters.”
I’ve been realizing this “fear” I’ve had since some of my earliest childhood memories: The fear of being abandoned or left alone in the world. I remember when I was a kid, like 7 or 8, there was this orphanage right up the road from our home. We past it every time we went anywhere. I had this fear that my parents were going to take me there and leave me. For a while, every time my parents were on the phone, I would listen to see if they were arranging the “drop-ff” at the orphanage. Growing up, I was worried about my friends leaving me. I especially worried about girlfriends kicking me to the curb for acting wrong or screwing up. Now, I’m just amazed that Melissa hasn’t sent me packing for all I’ve put her through. Strange how that fear or paranoia has been with me throughout my lifetime, but I’ve never really focused on it until now.
Sunday went pretty well. I got up and went for a run with a couple of friends. Just a 3.5 miler (which in the scheme of a marathon training season is a “nothing” run.) Dan, one of the guys, is in better shape than both Brad and I. We mistakenly let him set the pace on the way out (we ran an out and back, out 17 minutes (1.75 miles) and back.) Dan and I both had a dog with us. I was hurting from the start and thinking it was just me. This was my 8th day in a row of leg work (running or racquetball), and I just figured that it was general fatigue. On the way back, I was just crashing (legs ached and breathing felt really labored) and had to walk several times to get things together (unusual for any of us to pull up and walk mid-run.) It wasn’t until I got done that I realized that we were running what must have been 9:00 miles or just under on the way out. My treadmill pace has been 10:15 miles or so (**I’m Slow, I Know, Get Over it** is one of my favorite t-shirts.). Doing all of my running on the ‘mill’ is great , but it denies me the chance to learn to set my own pace. So, although the lack of a rest day in the last 8 days made the run less than I wanted it to be, at least I know it was a pace problem. Not just me being a wuss. J I got to take my lab mix, Beau, out with me. He’s five, and this is his first real run. He did great and acted like a complete gentleman. He qualifies to go again soon. I had him hooked to my water bottle belt, and he gives a little pull like a sled dog.
The rest of the day was good except for dealing with my son. I get frustrated with myself for getting so frustrated with him. Remember, he is one of my two identified triggers. He just has this total lack of ability to “go find something to do.” He’s right on top of someone all of the time, and that’s annoying. When I told him to find something to do for the 5th time, he said “I can’t think of anything!” in a very rude, *I’m about to lose it* tone. I rolled off a few ideas: his new scooter, video game (hand-held that he just HAD to have), bike, skates, skateboards, books, his model, movies, TV, playstation in his room. His response, of the ten things I listed, was “I don’t have a playstation in my room! Maggie has it in her room.” Of all the things he did have, he focused on the one thing he didn’t have. Classic Mic. Classic *awefulizing.* He was *triggering* most of the day, which led to an escalation and outburst about 2:00 when asked to help with getting the house clean and ready to show to buyers. I told him, at that point, that he had lost his opportunity to be around me for the day, that I was having a pretty good day and I wasn’t going to let him ruin it with his lack of control. That’s the way it ended, and I kept my mood fairly in check. I’m glad tomorrow’s Monday.
posted by DeMental at 2:38 PM
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