I’m on my 5th cup of tea today. It’s only 10:30am. My house can’t get anymore clean. My boy is sitting on his gaming chair playing online with his friends. My uncle’s funeral is in 1 hour. I haven’t even told him he’s dead. I know I should be there. The rest of my family is.
Just to be clear. This isn’t a post looking for sympathy. It’s not a post crying woe is me. It’s a post about choices. About making the wrong choices. About learning to live with them. About that feeling of not being where you think you are meant to be.
A lot of people can feel like this. I am sure we all do at some point or other. It might be a case where you feel you are not meant to be where you are in your job, where you live, maybe even your life. I feel like that too sometimes. In fact, I’m feeling it right now.
The cold reality is, however, wherever you are, that place you are in. You’ve helped put yourself there by the choices you’ve made. Oh, those choices may have been due to some drastic outside influence. Maybe even something you had no control over. But how you have reacted to that? How you’ve dealt with it after? That’s what has put you where you are.
It’s the same for me. I’m here in my current position because I used to be very lazy. My wife leaving was because I was a poor husband. The job I am doing is because I didn’t put enough effort into striving to get a better job or earn money in a way that would satisfy me.
I’m here. Not at the funeral where my family and relatives are. I’m here 100 miles away. Because I made the decision. I made the choice not to go. It was me who decided that I wasn’t going to force my son to go. We haven’t been to my hometown since his mother left almost a year ago. He doesn’t want to go there. He won’t even visit his mother’s family who are only 1 mile up the road.
I really don’t think it’s in his best interests to go now. He hasn’t had to face death yet. He’s never been to a funeral. I’m worried what it will do to his fragile state of mind. I remember my first encounter with death. It was my grandmother. I was 17. Let’s just say I didn’t cope very well.
Yesterday my ‘wife’ (It’s only a technicality) received a letter saying someone will be in touch soon to arrange our son’s counselling. I’m not looking forward to that. Yes, in the long run I think it will benefit him. But in the short-term I think it’s going to be tough having to face the issues he is carrying regarding his mother leaving. Yet another choice that was made. Yet a future problem to face. But I’ll wait for it. Deal with it when the time comes. No point dwelling on it now.
After writing the above I did something I haven’t done since my ‘old’ days. My days of laziness where I did very little. I fell asleep on the sofa. It was only for an hour. The fire was burning. Outside was wet and grey. A real dull day.
I’ve just woke up. My muscles are sore. My feelings a bit low. It’s like that saying of hitting a brick wall. Only It’s me. I haven’t hit it. I am it. I feel the heaviness of the concrete lying in my veins, in my mind, in my very being. I’m trying to lift myself but struggling against the weight. I’m regretting that choice. But again, as with all choices, I’ll live with it. It was my choice. My responsibility.
Choices we make and how time and perspective changes things.
Ok. The above was written last Sunday. After a while, and I stopped feeling sorry for myself, the day picked up. My son and I ended up having a good old laugh in the evening. The weight lifted off me. All was good. I was back on track. A little time had passed. Time where I had accepted my decision. Time where my perspective had changed. Time enough to let the worry of those choices go.
The week passed. Clarity returned. The positive outlook revived. Everything was going well. Yes, you read that right. everything WAS going well. But like this wonderous, unpredictable life we live, you never know what to expect.
Let’s just say I made a poor choice in judgement…again. (Will I ever learn?). I had been feeling a bit stressed, a little bit frustrated, yesterday morning. The self-defence class went well but I didn’t feel the usual tired satisfaction after. I knew I was feeling a bit on edge. So I did what I tend to do in that situation. I got to writing and doing some work on my blog. The writing helped settle me a bit but it was overshadowed by working on the technical side of the blog. The side I know nothing about. The side that’s a frustrating struggle.
This, combined with two phone calls I received. Phone calls in which I was reminded I missed my father’s birthday. Phone calls which made me remember something else. A milestone I didn’t want to remember. That it’s been a year since my ‘wife’ left.
Thing is, at that time, she was lying on the sofa in the living room. Our son had just went out to play with his friends. She had a very tough week and was worn out, emotionally and physically, and was getting some rest.
Needless to say I was triggered. We had words. Not words I am going to repeat here. I’m not proud of what was said. She was low enough already and I only added to her problems. And what good were those words anyway? That time has passed.
To make matters worse I allowed myself to dwell on those words for the rest of the day. I knew my son could feel it. We were both subdued that evening.
This morning things were different. I looked at how I behaved yesterday. Felt embarrassed about how I, not anyone else, had brought myself down, brought my son down with me. Then I started reading some people’s blog posts. One woman was worried about her sick child. I felt sorry for her. I thought about how I would feel in her situation. That is a terrible position for a parent to be in.
I thought about the fact I wasn’t in that situation. In fact, I realised the only problems I really had this past week were all of my own doing. My own worst enemy was myself and my poor choices.
It’s all very well trying to improve yourself, trying to teach yourself to think the right thoughts, take the right actions, make the right choices. But sometimes you will falter. Sometimes you’ll make choices not logically from a clear head but from an intense emotional state. Some choices are difficult enough. Some have no right or wrong answer. But the ones you make in the heat of a moment. They usually don’t turn out well.
Sometimes it takes us to develop a different perspective. Appreciate what we have. Not what we don’t. Take the choices we made, whether good or not, accept them…and move on. Try to remind ourselves to make better choices next time. And if there is no better choice? If it’s a ‘damned if you do, damned if you don’t’ situation. Well, then all we can do is accept that choice. Dwelling on it never helps. Do whatever you have to do to accept it. Get back in your stride and keep moving on.
I’ve made poor choices this week. No doubt they won’t be the last. But I’ve picked myself up. Done what I can to mitigate the damage and determined to myself that as long as I keep trying to make the right choices, keep remembering to appreciate the great things in my life, then that’s as good as anyone can do.