30/10/2024
"The day began like most: I woke up feeling negative, cooked breakfast, and mentally ran through my day. After helping feed the kids, I watched my wife leave for work, resenting that she could go while I stayed home, juggling work, educating the kids through online resources they didn’t want to do, and managing contractors reshaping our backyard. I felt overwhelmed, struggling to keep my head above water. I resented that I didn’t enjoy my job or do anything to change it, though I knew it was important to have work during Covid. Yet it brought no peace. I hadn’t connected with my wife in months, (desperately wanted to) and had stopped doing anything that brought me joy, devoting my time to things I believed should make me happy —working, renovating the house, and ensuring my children’s happiness. None of it brought me joy, and a constant voice in my head reminded me of it.
"I spent the morning trying to keep the kids from fighting, irritated that they couldn’t just do their work and play nicely. I forced myself through work tasks that gave me no satisfaction, counting down the hours to lunchtime, my chance to escape briefly with a run.
"When lunchtime arrived, I put on my mask, laced up my shoes, and headed out, but I struggled almost immediately. The mask made breathing hard, fueling my frustration. My usual running track felt especially boring, and the pressure grew as my feet felt heavier with each step. After one kilometre, I stopped, ripping off my mask to breathe. “Quitter,” the voices taunted.
"I crouched down, my muscles tensing as pressure overwhelmed me. I let out a frustrated scream, then broke down sobbing, tears streaming uncontrollably.
"Finally, my logical brain kicked in, judging me. I realised I was at my wit’s end, utterly helpless and unable to keep going. I was desperately unhappy and needed help.
"Once I caught my breath and my tears stopped, I ignored the voices, gave up on my run, and slowly turned back home. I don’t want to be unhappy anymore, but I don’t know where to begin."
This was me at my lowest. Failing at life.
Failing as a husband.
Failing as a father.
Failing as a man.
Failing me.
Except I wasn't.
I believed I needed to do it all myself. That, to be a man, I was strong enough to go it alone. To take it all on. To keep going, even when it was hard.
And when I wasn't? I berated myself for being soft. I berated myself for being an incredibly intelligent dude and not having the answers for getting out of my 'funk', and that the only way to get out of it was to keep pushing through.
It's not the answer. You're not alone. Never.
Talk to someone.
Talk to your partner.
Talk to a friend.
Talk to me.
You are not alone.