There are times when I don't have my shit together. I mean, much of my day, I couldn't hold myself together with super glue, duct tape, or staples combined. I'm not talking about those times. The times I am talking about are the times when I am playing normal, everyday citizen and I am not ready.
For instance, the other day, I wanted to get out. I didn't care where, I just wanted out of the house. My wife was leaving and I put stuff on and followed her out the door. Better way to say it is my body did its best impression of a.blind, three-legged bull in an overstocked china shop.
I had the basics down, barely. One foot Frankenstein's-monster clumped into the table, bounced off the wall, the door jamb and out the door. I'm not sure I even closed the door. It's coincidental that I likened myself to a lumbering monster, because that's what I felt like.
I was confused to be outdoors. I didn't understand what the fast and loud things on the road were, and I was angered at and tried to wave away the bright ball in the sky. When I got I to the van, I grunted that I was ready to go.
By and far, I prefer when I am level headed and/or coherent enough to behave myself and not push anyone's buttons, including my own. Instead of getting mad or frustrated, I am calm with an open ear.These are the times I consider myself 'Dad'. Most other times, I am a self-doubting, paranoid, sarcastic ball of shit. That's how I see myself anyway. I have yet to live with my anxiety. I still let it rule many of my days, but I have also learned to make the most of the days when I am just Dad.
