Scarred not Scared

How To Be A Midlife Dad Without Going Postal: A Manual

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

It sucks being older...and passionate

Investment. That is what stage actors shoot for when creating a 3D character. An emotional reality that helps the audience forget they are watching a lie, a charade,<> OH CRAP. My 6 y.o. just tripped over a picture we use to block the kitchen doorway so the bunny doesn't 'escape' the kitchen and chew up the LAN cables (again). Christian fell, and the picture glass just broke into long shards. Whew. He didn't cut his feet, I didn't yell and he didn't cry. Scene averted. Of course, the glass is a goner and I feel like crying, but so far so good. Sometimes I really wish I was less passionate than most of the men I know. Most of the men I come into regular contact with, don't laugh nearly as much as I do. And I bet most of them don't get nearly as angry as I when they get pissed and they probably don't cry from intense feelings like I do. My kids and my fiance, they are the greatest source of my intense emotions. Now, I'm not talking daily, weekly or even monthly, but definitely 'every couple of months-ly.' And I don't mind. Crying flushes the crap out of my soul. My sons have seen me cry and I think that's OK. I still garner their respect and love. Megan has seen me as well, and she doesn't seem to think less of me. But sometimes…sometimes I just wish I was more middle ground like most guys seem to be. Then I wouldn't get depressed or sad when a new project doesn't pan out, like my recent efforts to fix my Imperial. 3 weeks of abouty 3 whole days each week of my friend and I tearing it down and putting it back to gether, then finding it doesn't work any better and perhaps in some ways, worse. And my new 'career' has its ups and downs. Again, I can deal with my emotions with myself, but its the reactions of those around me that make it harder. Everyone loves me when I am up, happy and laughing. When I feel the flip, when I feel down, sad, depressed or beaten up, then my kids deal OK, but everyone else seems to want me to not to do that. Oh, then there's the times when I get angry. Naturally, no one likes that, least of all me. Megan always bears the hardest brunt, I guess because she's far closer to me than anyone else. I tell her when I feel sad/depressed/beaten, and she tries to support me in my moment. But sometimes when my frustration builds and I have a hard time expressing or thinking, she takes it to mean I feel that towards/about her. Then she gets edgier…oh hell. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how she talks to me when she get mad or frustrated. It doesn't matter that I bite my tongue and try to talk her out of her loops. It doesnt' matter, because as soon as I lose my cool, its my fault. I hear my anger, I hear my curses but she doesn't hear her own voice. It doesn't matter. I'm older, more experienced. I should have a more composed demeanor, calm in the face of ANY storm. Patience at all times, understanding that the tone of voice is not meant for me even though it is delivered into my face, eyes forward. It doesn't matter. There is no…CRAP…there is only my own shortcomings, faults, unevenness, harshness. The pendulum swings again, and I hold my breath. Breathless, I wait to measure the damage I do to those around me. Kids, my lover, myself. Breathe…don't wish to punch the world. Don't expect anything to 'go right.' Just breathe. Hope for the best, try your best but don't invest. Dont' self defeat or you'll be beat.

Aw, Effyou, Johnny Cochrane.

I still don't know what to do with myself.