1066 All Stars

There are moments on the road to recovery where you feel you have taken a wrong turn. That's not a problem in and of itself. The road is not straight, the detours of life are a natural and necessary deviation. But occassionally, the path we have taken may lead us completely in the wrong direction and it is important to change course.

That is where I find myself. I have made significant progress since leaving therapy but recently have begun to take a few steps backwards, predominantly in terms of anxiety. I recgonise it, I see my thoughts and actions for what they are and I am determined to reverse course.

This past weekend brought up a number of issues, both specific and general, that I will explore in detail. As with all my writing, the key is not simply to document, this is not a 'woe is me' rant. The point is to understand so that I can change.

Self Fulfilling Prophecy

I have noted a few times in my Mental Healthy Eating blogs that weekends are often more difficult than weekdays. At face value this is bizarre. After all weekdays mean work whereas weekends mean family, which is surely preferable?

And yet weekend are often far more stressful. I feel a pressure to enjoy spending time with my kids. This pressure translates into a tension, the tension building up into frustration and anger that I release in front of / at the kids, which generates a cycle of guilt. Rinse, repeat.

The trouble is, I have now come to dread the weekend. As I write this, I note how much better my mood has been today at work. So what goes wrong at the weekend? I have created my own mood black hole, dreading an event before it ever materialises.

And if I breakdown the weekend, was it so terrible as I imagined? There are some specifics that I will document but basically, no. I have convinced myself that I am too tired, too distracted, too anxious to enjoy my children. Yet when dragged to the park, we had fun and I was glad we did it.

You won't like me when I'm angry

There was a very specific incident on Saturday that caused me to lose my temper in a way that I rarely do.

It was just after lunch and the girls wanted to go to the park. I was locked in the cycle of stress noted above, wanting just to sit and drink my tea. The girls were restless and started playing, eventually coming to the sofa where I was. Play fighting, they bumped into me and split my tea.

I roared at them in a way I had never done before, to the point that I reduced them both to tears and Leah scuttled off to mummy an inconsolable wreck.

Interestingly, my response was not automatic. I was very conscious of having a split second to think before I reacted, my anger becoming almost a deliberate outburst, perhaps to satisfy my own need as much as a genuine reaction of shock and annoyance.

Then, the thoughts came flooding in. I felt incredibly guilty. Instead of turning that guilt around and becoming a means by which to lighten up, the first reaction was for the guilt to push my mood lower, a self admonishment that would in fact only manifest on those around me. I felt ashamed at my parenting skills. I felt embarrassed to have reacted this way with other people in the house.

And so I followed my own advice and did things differently.

I sat the girls down separately and apologised for shouting, whilst also trying to explain to them why I had got angry. My mood did not instantly disperse but I felt a certain weight lift, felt I could move on with the day.

Eat The Rich

A lesser stress but noted all the same.

We went out for dinner that evening and my general low mood  / high stress continued. I sat with Aiden and, at 6 months, he just wants to grab everything. I told him off, getting annoyed at him, despite the fact that he doesn't understand, drawing a (quite correct) rebuke from Karen.

Then when dinner came, I became annoyed at the girls not eating their food, reminding them more than once that I would be paying good money for their meal, as if that means anything to them.

Why is money such a driver of stress to me? I have no idea how much we have but we are certainly not destitute. This manifests quite often. I have moments of deep reflection where I think about specific things I have bought over the years and what a waste of money they were. If the item does not have a practical purpose (such as being edible, useable, wearable etc) I struggle to understand its value, despite having wanted it in the first place. For a reason unknown, I place such a high value on money that any 'unnecessary' spend becomes a stick to beat myself with, another failure.

And Aiden? The simple truth is that I am finding fatherhood much more difficult second time around. Of course this time we have two other children running around, life cannot simply adjust to Aiden, rather it goes on around him. With the girls, I was on anti-depressants. This time, I am going it alone, albeit with my Priory toolbox always at hand. It is different, it is difficult and it is stressful.

I heard it said recently, why have children if you don't want to spend time with them? There is some truth in that but it also rather simplifies a more complex equation. I want my kids, they bring enrichment to my life. But they are also an incredible stress sometimes. It is okay to feel overwhelmed, to want some space, to fantasise a 'what if' scenario of living it up as a single man. Thoughts are just thoughts, they are not actions. I do not need to judge myself by them. I love my kids. I am doing my best. I will continue to try and do better.

Method, results, conclusion

So I have established the events, I have explored  the consequences. What are the conclusions?

Mindfulness. It all comes back to mindfulness.

Building up a fear of the weekend is my mind drifting to the future, filling in blanks, catastrophising. Instead, I seek to live in the present, taking each moment for what it is. What can possibly be more important, at that moment, than spending time with my children? What Facebook status cannot wait? What Tweet demands immediate attention? What household chore cannot be delayed? None. My children, my family, they are all that matters. I continue to strive to create moments that I can enjoy with them.

But there is also a recognition of the work involved. I noted at the outset of this blog how far I had come. Yet there remains a considerable distance to go before I get to where I want to be. It is a journey I cannot walk alone. I need help and support. Those closest to me probably see it, even if they do not fully understand. Talking about mental health with others reminds me how much I have learned, how much I have changed. But the journey is not complete. It never will be. I just keep trying to move forward.

One step at a time.