Tag: #Mistakes

  • Dredging

    So, I have been avoiding talking about a situation, and it has to do with my daughter. She is having an eye surgery today. Very minor, adjusting the muscles in her right eye to help alignment, and to improve vision. This is, in fact, the second time she has had an operation on her eyes. Back in September 2020, both eyes were adjusted, and we thought that would be the end of it. But there was a 5% chance that we’d be back.

    I didn’t write about this before because I didn’t want to over share about my daughter’s life. But, I share so many other things about her, and not that it gives me license to share everything that happens to her… I’m proud of my kid, and this is an operation that is common and nothing to be ashamed of. She was afraid when the first surgery came around, and she sure as hell wasn’t happy about having to have a second operation, but she faced her fears, and moved forward.

    I, on the other hand, have been not at my best. I haven’t been sleeping, or eating right, and I also have been a little short tempered as well. This second surgery has been our radar since September, and I admit that I have been avoiding thinking about it. I’m not a piece of shit dad, as I read all the pre-surgery information, schedule all the appointments, and checkups, and got the kid her Covid test, and all of that stuff. I was there for the kid whenever she wanted to talk about it, and I tried my best to listen to what she was saying and not just dismiss her concerns.

    I was trying to be brave for everybody, and not think or dwell on what I was feeling. I understand that there are moments when being a parent you have to put the kid’s wellbeing before your own. And now that we are on the other side of her surgery (She just got out of the OR and is in recovery with her mother,) all of my emotions are coming up.

    The first is that I couldn’t be there. Thanks to Covid, only one parent is allowed in the hospital, so, again, I had to sit out. This left me at home, with my computer, thinking about all of this. Too much time to sit around and think, and though I know the chance of complications from the operation are minimal, not being there still makes me feel helpless, and useless.

    And hospitals, and feeling helpless and useless just dregs up the old feeling of my mother slowly dying in a hospital. These two situations have nothing in common other than a hospital, but it’s there. When hospitals are mentioned, it pops right up. And it’s not the memories of my mother dying that show up, it’s the emotions which feel draped over me like an ugly sweater.

    With that feeling of helplessness all around me, I started reliving all the mistakes that I have made over the past five years. Like, really litigating and flagellating myself. Really punishing myself for not living up who I should be for my wife and kid. Reliving mistakes I made in my career, and moments when I should have stood up for myself, or told that guy off, or just walked away. Then I really started punishing myself for not being smart enough, or talented enough, or wasting all the opportunities that I have had in this life.

    And all of this is because my kid is having a minor eye surgery?

    I might be a little depressed.

    Being upset that your child has to have an operation; that’s understandable.

    Thinking that I am the worst human on the planet because my kid is having an operation? Something seems out of whack.

    And I have been avoiding talking about this. I was trying to be brave for the wife and kid, but if any stress comes my way, and my reaction is to do the minimum and hate myself, then I am not handling it in a healthy way. And in the end, I’m not being a good father or husband.

    The good news is that the wife texted me and the kid is awake and eating ice cream. They should be home in a bit, and I promised to make chicken noodle soup.

    I got a lot of work to do.

  • Working for an Alcoholic

    I had a plan this morning on what I was going to blog about. I follow several “Ivy Style” people and stores on Instagram, and I wanted to write about how this has turned into a small obsession with me as I am looking forward to the day when I can put on a shirt, tie and sportscoat and go to work again, or see a play, or just be out of the house.

    As I began to write about this subject, I thought back as to when I started dressing in this “Ivy Style.” It was back when I was the number two at a rehearsal studio, and my boss was an alcoholic. He would show up hours late, hungover, would miss meetings that I would have to take over, and when he did arrive, he would look disheveled and unkempt. When his alcoholism truly got out of hand, by which he was sitting in his office and drinking all day in view of clients, I decided that I needed to demonstrate to our customers that I was the responsible one, and I decided to accomplish this I would begin wearing a shirt and tie to work.  

    And when I thought about working in that studio and with my alcoholic boss, a wave of emotions dropped over me; shame, annoyance, a sort of passive aggressive futile resignment, and anger. So much anger erupted in me. Anger at the owner for ignoring the problem because his business was booming in spite of the supervisor’s dereliction. And anger at myself for putting up with it for so long. For putting up with a situation I hated being in, but couldn’t muster the courage to leave. Eventually I did quite that job, but only after a year of unrelenting stress.

    These ancient memories and emotion have washed over me, and my day has now been sidetracked. I tried for about an hour to return to my original blog topic, which maybe I will get to another day, but every time I started on it, I kept going back to that time in my life. Over and over again. I just gave up and put this out. Maybe to let it go, maybe to say that there is still something lingering there that I haven’t dealt with. But something is there, because why would I have such a strong reaction to that period in time from so long ago?