My eyes opened at 5:06am. My partner and I have a giant bed where our two kids sleep between us – it’s a very comfortable and warm place to rest. Upon waking up – I roll over to look at my 5-year-old – who looks so peaceful and gentle while she sleeps. Her eyelids slightly shuffle during REM, as I run my fingers through her hair and whisper, “I love you so much.” I hope her dreams are filled with happiness and best friends.
I then glance over at my partner – who looks beautiful as she slumbers while our 2-year-old son lay with his head on her stomach, and arm across her chest. He still breast feeds during the early morning hours, so he is sure to stay close for easy access. Between our 2 children – she has been breast feeding for nearly 5-years straight. I strongly admire her strength and deep passion for motherhood. I reach out to place my hand on my sons’ head to brush his hair back and forth – “I love you, buddy,” I softly speak.
I roll back over and stare at the ceiling – “what have you done?” That emptiness mixed with nausea begins to consume me – and the recollection of my bad decisions flood my thought process. In December 2023, I decided to leave my full-time job during some sort of mental breaking-point I had – and this was ultimately a terrible decision. I would do anything for an opportunity to rewind time – but that’s not how life works. It was a family decision, as I spoke to my partner about resigning to reflect on my career, while taking on a larger role at home with the children. I have savings and had convinced myself that I thought it through. I did not realize, at the time and for me, how much a full-time job instilled meaning/purpose within – nor did I anticipate how long it would take to transition back.
I had worked full-time for 20-years – and was largely proud of my professional life – but it was all taken away, by my own poor decision making/lack of foresight. It has put my partner in a tough position financially and emotionally, as I have completely shut down as I try to find full-time work in this current professional climate. Thank goodness I have a part-time role – but it’s not the same. I feel ashamed to look at my kids and worry about the future. I dread waking up because I must look in the mirror. I am forced to pretend like everything is ok.
Over the weekend at the park, playing with the kids – I overheard families speaking about their jobs and big homes they own. They have stocks and equity – I just wanted to slap each one of them. I was that guy once and can’t fault others for having what I don’t and what I wish I had right now. I yearn for what I once despised – a cubicle and regular bi-weekly paycheck.
I think to myself, “what happened to you?”
At some point during the pandemic lockdowns – I started to get angry and resentful. My oldest daughter(3rd child), who is with us every other week, was in 5th grade at the time and locked out of her school. She was forced to stop playing sports and to cover her beautiful face. The frustration grew and festered inside – it never went away. I felt my children were being harmed and being asked to normalize strange policies and routines. Others handled it well – especially my colleagues who were single and enjoying the “telework” life – but for me, I only wanted normalcy again. 5-years later, I still feel the frustration but wish I had handled it better – like my partner and oldest daughter had. They could see me unraveling – something I couldn’t see myself. Hindsight is a crazy thing.
I pray that tomorrow I wake up with a different perspective. I feel like my old self is locked inside of me – and can’t get out. I see him in there pacing back and forth – banging on the door – trying to scream some sense into me. If I don’t change and I continue down this path – I will lose everything. I don’t want that. I just want to feel like myself again.
Intrusive Thoughts 