I was going to be a doctor. Not an actual doctor but I was on the way to a terminal degree when things changed for me, we had a kid. It made the most sense, at the time, to be the one to stay home with the kiddo when she was born because I, admittedly, had the lower earning potential. What began as a practical decision for the good of the family inevitably changed the trajectory of my career, such as it is and began the decline of the value that I saw in myself.

I didn’t need a doctorate or high profile to career to feel like I had value. At the time, I didn’t run because I had terrible form and had injured myself to the point where I couldn’t run even if I wanted to. I rode a bike from time to time and had a podcast and completed and began and completed two master’s degrees with the only real option for me being teaching in the secondary field because with a non-terminal degree that was the only option that would allow me to have a steady income and still work in the arts. It continues to be the only option and I work hard at it, usually 10+ hours a day. I’ve built a life that up until May included a wife and family. I had no intention of things spinning out as they did, it happened for a variety of reasons, the most important being that I felt very lost in my relationship and, by proxy, my life. It fell out over a couple of years, the last three being the most difficult. The first summer, I had the existential crisis, the second summer a minor breakdown with a, “I think you should see someone,” and the third (this summer) the big break.

I’ve tried to really come to terms with what put me where I’m at, sitting in my kitchen wiping away the redness in my eyes from the tears after the kids left trying to sort out my feelings about why I’m here. Not the existential here but the physical “here.” What I’ve come up with over the last couple of days, last week really, is that I allowed myself to become a means to an end, at least from my perspective. I don’t mean this to sound self-centered because I had an equal part in that becoming but that I found a way to keep separate lives as long as my partner was able to pursue whatever she wanted. It was always that way with us, whatever she wanted I wholeheartedly supported and felt that for some reason my needs and desires were secondary to her success. In my own head. I don’t know what she felt about it because we didn’t talk, not about anything that really mattered. Politics, stuff with the house, stuff with the kids, stuff with her jobs (over the years there were many and even a complete career change last year) and everything that she did was towards a career and a future and everything I was focused on was in the here and now, it was inconsequential because it didn’t pay the bills until it did and I was locked in to the career I have now while she was free to pursue whatever career she wanted.

This all came up after a conversation that was supposed to be about how the kids were doing (struggling) and ended up with an “I don’t mean to brag but I got a huge raise at work so we are fine. If there is anything you need…” and I appreciate the sentiment but fuck that was hard to hear. I felt a kick in my gut because I’m in the position of working so hard for so long and giving up dreams that I thought were important (I don’t really need a doctorate now) and even after a 10 hour day I would come home to dinner and the family sitting playing video games or watching TV until bedtime and sitting up alone until late wondering how I got where I was, this time in an existential way. I felt as necessary as a paycheck. And I still feel that way, only when I finally took control of my future it is still an “I know it’s hard right now but it will get better” when I don’t see the better. When I spent years of my life lonely and grinding away at my job because I’m the stable one who can stay focused on a thing and do it until it is done. I’m a weekend parent who didn’t want to be, I’m a paycheck to paycheck person when I shouldn’t have to be and I wish, at times, that I could just be happy being an accessory and sitting at home while the kids and the wife play video games and sleep forever and ever, amen. But I can’t.

So this week was a tough one. The kids stayed with their mom on Thursday so they could go trick-or-treating with her friend and I didn’t get them until Friday with a full day of activities (their school-related) and on top of that allergies hitting out of nowhere and today we just lazed around the house trying not to go crazy from the allergies. Sophie and I did get to go climb while Sam was at his friend’s birthday party and that was really cool to get her up on the wall for a bit. Today, I’ll blame shitty sleep last night, I teared up while we were playing a card game and I started thinking about how they were going to be gone in a few hours. I’m tearing up writing about it now. How self-centered do I have to be to put my feelings above the peace of mind of those kids?

Don’t worry, I recognize toxic thoughts really quickly these days and while I feel the above statement to the core of my being, I also know that I’m doing the thing I need to do to be the best I can for my kids, long term. When I went to pick them up on Friday, there were bags of snacks and beanbag chairs and card games and a bunch of things they wanted me to have. I was so overwhelmed because I saw both sides of this gesture. The one side is that the kids like these things and I’m not in a place where I see them often enough to keep in the house or buy on a regular basis; the other side is that because my ex is in a good place she’s showing kindness and that we both had a hand in putting ourselves in this place and we should try to look out for each other. And because I can’t take care of myself. And because I don’t have the resources or growth potential in my career to really be out of the hole for at least two years. So things are going to be better, they are. I’m just in an emotional black hole right now and I feel really alone because I’ve been isolated from my kids and I’ve been so busy at work I haven’t reached out like I said I would to other people in my life that have offered to support when I need it. Well, I need it. After this week, hell week, I’m going to try and set up a couple of times a month, or even a week, where I’m not eating alone all the time and sitting alone all the time.

Ultimately, I can own where I am and I don’t have to know all the answers to the “here” question as long as I can say that I am. I am here.

I was supposed to play at a show last night that focused on loss and grief, I think this was the piece that I was supposed to share instead but it took this long to come out.