I did want to be like my dad, and I didn’t.
He was unfit; his habits were bad. He was taciturn and moody. There was no vibrancy. He slept most of the time, and when he was awake, he made you feel like you were in his way.
I didn’t want to be like my Dad.
Fathers Day should be a celebration of paternalism and love, but for me it’s a day where I am filled with a hollow sadness and an uncomfortable ache. It’s a stark reminder that my inability to manage a broken relationship has terrible consequences.
Divorces are tough sons of bitches, but divorces with children…now that’s the toughest of them all. One day they are there and the next they are gone. It’s the small things that produce the most damaging shards. The silence around the house, the omission of the once-in-a-while glimpse as they run into the kitchen for food and drink before once again disappearing in their bedroom; the bedtime ritual of storytelling, hugs and kisses and the morning ritual of the second kiss – the one where you pause momentarily to take in the beauty, where you tell yourself “I created that,” before kissing him softly on his forehead so you are careful not to wake him.
In my last blog post I wrote about the new book I had been reading called Cutting: Understanding and Overcoming Self-Mutilation by Steven Levenkron (LINK). I purchased the book because one of my friend’s is a Cutter and I realised that I didn’t know anything about this dark and secretive illness. Everyone has a lack of understanding in something, but if you are close to someone who is a Cutter then you are running the risk of adding to his or her problems through your own personal lack of education.
There were a number of key learning points in the book for me, and I want to share one with you today. If you read my previous blog post you will know that I wrote about some of the key factors that lead to the development of this mental illness, and one of them involves the way you were raised as a child. I have written about this many times before, but I will say it once again, when you become a parent for the first time you do not know what to do. As with anything, your instincts kick in and these instincts are developed from memories that exist from your own upbringing.
Sandwiched in between the beginning and the end, is a lot of stuff that equates to the sum total of your life. Somewhere in between all of this stuff will be the remnants of a few vital choices. One of these vital choices is how you earn money, more notably known as your choice of career.
A full week consists of seven 24-hr days or 168-hrs. Let’s break this down and examine it in a little bit more detail. The experts will have you believe that you need at least eight-hours sleep per night (7×8=56). At my pomp I was working 12-hrs per day five days per week (5×12=60). So I spent 116-hrs of my 168-hr week either sleeping or working. Logic dictates that if I am going to spend 70% of my time either sleeping or working, then I need to invest in a very comfortable bed, immerse myself in a career that I derive pleasure from and surround myself with people that I connect with.