Namaste.

anger.  frustration.  stuck.  seemingly no way out…ever.  self help books.  daily exercise.  daily yoga.  healthy eating.  inspirational podcasts.  inspirational ted talks.  everything inspirational but still STUCK in a prison of hell.  busy mind.  busy body.  dizzy.  blurry eyes.  decreasing bank account.  decreasing marriage.  decreasing connection with Rylee.  everything decreasing except my busy mind and sore body.  life continuing on.  it always does.  slow down.  focus.  meditate.  allow life to unfold as it may.  as I do this my marriage is crumbling as is my relationship with my daughter.  “is this how life is supposed to play out?”  for someone filled with such a big heart I am lost.  always lost.  except for the periods of mania when I am on top of the world and connections with everyone are fantastic.  SEIZE THE MOMENT.  then two days later I am completely lost again.  fighting with people over silly movies.  a silly society.  engaging in needless fights over politics.  gun laws.  shitty movies.  shitty shows.  but as I struggle in some sort of mania life continues on for most.

watching Nicole struggle with her own anxiety.  her constant back issues (caused by anxiety).  her control issues.  her busy mind.  her buried heart.  watching Rylee continue to grow.  put into a family that she never asked for.  two parents who continue to struggle.  continue to try and provide.  continue to offer up as much love as they have to offer but also offering up their demons.  their fractured hearts.  fractured souls.  fractured minds.  WHEN DOES IT GET BETTER???

the struggle continues.  the daily struggle.  the mundane life.  mundane routines.  a beautiful world surrounds us but we are STUCK.  CONSTANTLY STUCK.  there are beautiful people everywhere but I focus on the shitty ones.  the lazy ones.  the ones lacking hearts and brains.  constantly fighting battles that are unwinnable.  LOST.  ALWAYS LOST.  but then, all of a sudden, everything makes sense and I am on top of the world once again.  STOP THINKING.  FEEL.  DO NOT THINK.  THE CHATTER IS ENDLESS.  THE USELESS INFORMATION IS EVERYWHERE.  POLITICS THAT WILL NEVER GO AWAY.  CONSTANT CHATTER.  CONSTANT BASHING.  BUT NOTHING CHANGES.  EVER.  FUCK ALL OF THEM.  FUCK ALL OF THEM.  FUCK ALL OF THEM.

the two people I love most in the world are stuck with my mood swings.  my cluttered mind.  my lack of consistency.  lack of focus.  NOT FAIR.  TO THEM.  TO ME.  years of psychiatrists and psychologists.  STILL STUCK.  STILL FRUSTRATED.  MEDS ONE DAY.  NO MEDS THE NEXT.  CONSTANT EXERCISE.  CONSTANT WRITING.  CONSTANT FRUSTRATION.

I sit down at the computer to work.  a few emails.  a few calls.  but nothing happens.  I stare at the screen.  I stare at the screen.  I stare at the screen.  I send an incoherent email.  I make an incoherent call.  everything incoherent.  I close my computer.  I jerk off.

I walk down to pick up Rylee from school.  sunshine.  fresh air.  I see her walking up the street.  she sees me but doesn’t recognize me.  haircut.  buzzed beard.  a new look.  a new man.  a new dad.  we quickly run to each other with HUGE smiles on both of our faces.  we both open our arms and give each other the biggest hug we have had in years.  I didn’t want to LET GO.  neither did she.

“Dad you look so different.  so good.  so young.”

“thanks Rylee.  I love you.”

“love you too Dad.”

we walk side by side the rest of the way home.  Rylee talking.  and talking.  and talking.  she is happy.  she is excited.  she is filled with hope.  she knows that my new look will make her Mom happy.  all Rylee wants is to live in a happy home.  with a happy family.

we make it home and then Rylee moves all the furniture away because she wants to show me her cartwheel.  she was never a dancer.  we never pushed her to dance.  but she feels bad about herself at school because all of her friends can do cartwheels but she can’t.  KIDS.  she shows me over and over and over.  many failures but a few successes.  is that life?  is that normal?

Rylee then shows me her dance routine from school.  she complains that nobody wants to practice and this frustrates her.  I tell her to focus on herself as I continue to focus on others.  “do what I say.  not what I do.”  am I a bad parent?  a bad role model?  a bad influence?  so many thoughts invade my filled up brain.  my broken heart.

Nicole gets home from her new job and we walk downtown.  Orangeville.  not Toronto.  they go to a “crystal healing” type store.  I go to a coffee shop.  again.  is this all I do?  coffee.  run.  cycle.  yoga.  listen to music.  drink wine.  jerk off.  read.  bed.  same routine all over again the next day.  DOCTOR…HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!

Rylee and Nicole come back to get me at the coffee shop and we walk home.  Rylee wanting to show me her new crystals.  always wanting to get my approval.  always wanting my love.  always wanting a Dad.  just like I always wanted a Dad.

we make it home and then Rylee shows me her crystals.  she explains each crystal with such passion.  such love.  was I like this as a kid?  passionate.  fun.  loving.  restless.  I want to focus all of Rylee’s passions and busyness into something specific.  something meaningful.  something that could benefit her when she grows up.  but then I think that she’s just a kid.  a loving kid who has seen so much and heard so much that she is years ahead of her age.  unfair.  she helps her Mom and dad so much.  she is the mature one in a house filled with fucked up minds.  tortured souls.  shattered hearts.  family.  family.  family.  life.  life.  life.  love.  love.  love.  loss.  loss.  loss.  abandonment.  abandonment.  abandonment.

I hug Rylee and say goodbye to Nicole as I exit the house once again.  this time I am off to yoga.  I arrive at the studio and take the spot up at the front.  I sit on my mat and listen to all the women at the back discussing their clothes.  I look around for some acknowledgment.  some attention.  the class begins to fill up.  full.  tight.  unfortunately an older man takes up the spot beside me.  I prefer a female’s energy.  less testosterone.  less moaning.  less groaning.  the class begins and I struggle.  my mind still busy.  still manic.  stiff body.  stiff mind.  everything stiff.

one hour later the class ends with savasana.  a relaxation to end the class.  focused breathing.  relaxed body.  an inner search.  everything quiet.  everything still.  the class is almost over.

The instructor asks us to sit up and put our hands together in prayer position.

we all sit up in unison.  I put my hands together in prayer.

“focus on one thing that you are grateful for.”

I think of Rylee.

I think of Nicole.

My family.

I bawl.

I bawl.

I bawl.

“Namaste.”