Making my daughter cry

I've written a lot over the past week about depression, it's probably really getting you down....ditto

I've focused a lot on relationships and how the side effects of depression have impacted my love life, the romance dance, the love train.  Well as you know the train didn't make the station, it derailed somewhere between love and hate....hopefully it didn't get close enough to the end to cause any long term damage but unfortunately it's not returning back to its starting point

Anyway, like a man with solid boots, a back pack and an ordnance survey map....I'm rambling 

Today I'm not going to write about my love life, everyone is bored of that, even the people involved. No today I'm gonna talk about being a bad parent.

Now I challenge you to find anyone that thinks they're a great parent.  It is by definition a job that sets you up to fail.  Society makes it impossible to feel like you're doing a good job......'what are you feeding your baby, is that vegan, organic, gluten free, dairy free, sugar free, GM freeeee Nelson Mandela

But today is more serious than that. You see today is the day that I stand up and say 'I try hard to be a good dad. I tick a lot of boxes. I do a lot of things right.  But I also do a lot wrong'.

From my understanding, depression effects different people in different ways.  Some people much more seriously than me. So in a lot of ways I feel lucky.  But one side effect for me has been a short temper and complete lack of patience. Just a lot of anger. 

Now a girlfriend, a parent, a friend, they can live with that, although clearly not forever. But they can just think 'stop being a bellend'. In fact they don't need to just think it, they can, and will, tell you.

But children, children are different.  They don't really understand depression.  Most children's most devastating situation in any given day is that they can't have a second Barny Bear (a vegan, organic...blah blah blah).  They can understand when someone is happy or sad.  They can understand when someone is busy....though not all the time.  But what they can't understand is depression....heck I don't even understand it

So when Amelia is feeling rambunctious (let's be honest I didn't need to use that word, but how many chances do you get for that one, let me tell you, not many) and just wants to play.  When she's winding me up or is playing schools rather than getting her uniform on, when she's 'just gotta finish this' before sitting down for dinner.  She's not thinking 'I'm gonna try and really piss him off'.  She's thinking 'I'm 7 years old and...look a squirrel'.

So what do I do, or what I have in the past when these situations have occurred.  I've shouted, shouted so loud sometimes that she has literally burst into tears in front of me. Inconsolable tears.

What kind of illness is this when you're making your 7 year old cry her eyes out.  And I have felt like the worst dad in the world.  

And I know what you're thinking. Ben, you're a great dad, your daughter loves you, you're awesome, I wish I could be even half the man you are.....ok I'm being silly now.  But I don't feel like a great dad.  There have been times when I have felt so completely ashamed of my actions that I've thought she would just be better off without me.  I'm sure there are times when she's thought the same.

But now I'm changing.  I've got to change.

On the recommendation of a friend I've started reading a book called 'the chimp paradox'.  It's all about controlling how you behave, differentiating (another big word) your own human actions from those of the 'chimp' inside your head.  I'm only 3 chapters in but it is already making such a big difference to me.  Simple techniques like controlling your expectations.  For instance, why do we get so annoyed when we hold a door for someone and they don't say thanks?  Because we expect them to, because we would. But it doesn't mean that they are being rude (well in this case it does but I've been awake 3 hours so cut me some slack) it just means they haven't met our expectations...and that's ok.

Now I can't apply that to Amelia, not from her side at least, because Amelia expects me to look after her, to love her and to protect her. To not shout at her for no reason. To not make her cry.  These are not expectations that should be disregarded as being her problem. These are my problem

But you see the key is to take a moment to think. Take a deep breath. Think to myself, does it matter that there is glue on the table? Does it matter that the bath water is all over the bathroom floor? Does it matter if she watches one more cartoon before bed. And the answer is no.  You only get one chance to be a child and I need to stop ruining it for her.

There is so much more I want to say, I just can't find the words to say it.  Perhaps I need a dictionary. Or a thesaurus....the worlds most well spoken dinosaur 

I apologise for the random meanderings of the blog today, though the clue is in the overall blog description.  I'm not sleeping well at the moment, a possible side effect of the medication.....why couldn't I have had erectile dysfunction instead, sleeping is the problem, not getting up.  I've been up for 3 hours today by 6:30 and in fact already been for a 5k run.  Yeah I feel productive but I'll be exhausted by the time I get to work.  Don't worry though I always get a burst of energy and feel wide awake....at bedtime 

Have a great Tuesday everybody. And remember.  Try not to be like Ben 

Time to move on....

I didn't write a blog yesterday.  I didn't write one because to be honest it felt like my world had ended.

I mentioned in my first blog this week that my depression has played a massive part in my relationship breakdown.  I realised that I was still clinging on to the hope that I could take the medication, do the counselling, and things could get back how they once were. 

Well yesterday, after pushing and pushing, it became clear that this was not the case.  It was really over.  For good.  She had just been too nice to be so blunt with me until I'd basically forced her to. 

So whilst my relationship technically ended around two weeks ago, it really ended for me yesterday. 

I spent the afternoon feeling like a complete failure.  

It reminds me of a story called 'Nails In The Fence'.  You can google it so I don't need to rewrite the whole thing, but let's just say I hammered in too many nails, and even though the medication, and the counselling, and everything else will start the process of removing the nails, the holes will still be there, and I can't repair them.

I was feeling about as low as I have done for some time, until Amelia came to stay.  She called me on the way to tell me she had her trainers on and she wanted to go for a run.  She wanted to be like daddy and run. 

Now we didn't go far, and there was a lot more walking than running, but it was great.  It completely took my mind off of things.  We followed this with a bit of Netflix before she went to bed and I 'chilled'.

It was difficult to not then spend the evening dwelling on things, but she had at least left me feeling a little more positive.

So onto today.  Now one thing I have learnt is that if I am busy, and don't give myself time to think too much, I am much happier.  So what did I do this morning....the ironing.  I know, I hate ironing, I think most people do.  But as pathetic as this sounds, I'm pretty good at it and I really like my iron....I bloody should it cost me £150.

Next up was a trip to Gunwharf Quays outlet shopping village (yeah I know 99% of you know where this is and what is is, I could have just typed Gunwharf...but the people of China and Russia reading don't know what is it so pipe down).  Amelia needed some new trainers for PE (that's physical education) at school and the shop there was the only place we could find that had her size.  10% off for a slight mark and £11.70 later she had some new trainers.

It was at this point that I made a mistake.  I said I would show Amelia a shop I thought she would like. The Cadbury shop.

Now don't get me wrong, she loved it, and she got a bag of Flumps.  The problem is I bought Chomps, Sherbert Lemons, Black Jacks, Fruit Salads and 1.7kg of Dairy Milk....£17 worth of confectionary.  I felt like Willy flippin' Wonka.  Still, I'll force it down.  

It did lead to a very funny moment though. It was suggested that by eating all of this I would get fat.  Until Amelia piped up and said 'nope, he doesn't get fat, he'll just run it off'.  Yes, I will....think about doing that. 

Back to our hometown for a Subway lunch (other sandwich based restaurants are available) and then off to the cinema to see 'Nine Lives'.  Not the most fantastic film but i left there still feline great (you see I changed the word 'feeling' for 'feline' because it was a cat film....yeah that's right, I've got the smartness in me)

And so it was the early evening, and our plan for the evening was to attend an End of Summer, Songs from the movies, fireworks extravaganza picnic.  And the weather forecast for the evening was hailstorms and heavy rain.  What could be better.

But do you know what, it was a fantastic evening, yep it did rain a little and we all sat under umbrellas, but for the most part it was dry.  Amelia got a glitter tattoo, I got my face painted, Amelia got her face painted.  We danced, we sang, we walked on stilts and we made glow stick necklaces.  All with family and great friends. I remembered what it was like to feel happy for what felt like the first time in ages.

I fell asleep writing this so it's actually being finished off on Sunday morning.  In my dream before I woke up I got a text message which felt so real.

The text message said 'I'm sorry, I really want to, but I just don't love you anymore'

I guess it was a message from my subconscious 

Time to move on.....

Stage 1 - Admitting there's a problem

Well it's been a couple of days now of blogging and generally the feedback has been really positive

It's been eye opening to see how many people have contacted me to say how brave I am, that they have been through something similar and that they admire me for speaking up about it

Unlike Enrique Iglesias, I'm no hero, just a normal guy, with normal problems, that just so happens to be bold enough, stupid enough or desperate enough to share them with anyone that is willing to read them

So as you will have gathered from my blog this morning/yesterday morning, depending on when I've posted this and when you're reading it, I was awake on Thursday at 3:15am, a frankly ridiculous time of the morning to be awake.....I wouldn't even want to 'still' be awake at 3:15, let alone be waking up then

But yet I find myself at 10:30pm wide awake and with nothing better to do than scrawl down my thoughts....in a digital sense 

Thursday mornings are usually a very hectic morning in my house, at least they used to be.  At the moment it's just me and then Amelia 3 days a week, and Wednesday night is one of her nights here, so I usually get to wake up to her smiling face....most of the time.  

This Thursday however, as I mentioned yesterday, Amelia was away for the night with Grandma and Grandpa, a night away in a hotel.  I'm sure I was told half a dozen times where they were going but I don't remember so let's say Monaco, because that sounds exciting....albeit slightly unfeasible for them to have driven there and back for one night 

I text my mum this morning to find out how Amelia had slept and if check if everything was OK.  Now I can only assume it was down to the signal problem but the only message I got back was 'signal is very bad here'.  I'm assured however that they did get home later today and everyone is just fine

After an early wake up I did at least allow myself a lie in, or is it a lay in, well either way I switched off my alarm, and was barely out of bed before 5:30 to exercise 

This morning was a standard 25 minute HIIT session, I use an app called 'internal'....now that's an unfortunate autocorrect right there, that's not the sort of workout I could post about on Facebook. The app is called 'Interval' and allows you to program in your own custom workouts, the only downside to this is it does allow you to cheat and be a little lazy so I think tomorrow/today will be treadmill intervals, 30 second sprint, 30 second walk

I think for the sake of argument from now on I shall write my blogs in the evening and publish in the morning, so that should clear up whether it's today, yesterday, this morning or tomorrow morning 

And now to the meat in the sandwich....

Today has been a real struggle.  And it's so difficult because I can write all day long about things that only effect me, but I don't feel comfortable and it wouldn't be be fair to post anything about anyone else.  But suffice say it's been hard

There is so much going on in my head, but I am thinking clearer than I was.  I've had a lot of time to reflect on the past few years, on decisions I've made and actions I've taken.  And I've made mistakes.  I've made the wrong choices about some things.  They say it's better to regret the things you have done rather than the things you haven't and I'm sort of in both camps.  I regret things I've have done and I regret so many things I haven't.  

As I have said before, I massively regret taking so long to seek some help for the way I've been feeling.  I did actually see my GP a few years ago, but was sort of brushed off with a phone number to call, for someone to whom I would have to explain everything again.  It was hard enough doing it the first time, I wasn't doing it again, so the number went in the bin....what an idiot I was

So I've talked about the fact that I'm getting help, but I haven't spoken about how that came about. 

So basically a couple of weeks ago, events came to a head and I had what can best be described as a big fucking cry. I cried like never before, because I knew I had completely balls'ed everything up, is that how you spell balls'ed? Is it even a word?

Anyway, so I got my crying out of the way and made the decision that I needed to see a doctor again, and actually get something done this time.  

I phoned the doctors at 8am, panicking that the receptionist, nosey as they are, was going to ask what my ailment was, if I needed an emergency appointment then I was going to have to be really ill....if she had actually questioned me then it was a toss up between 'I can't get anything to stay down' and 'I cant get it up'.....but let's leave the erectile dysfunction to Pele

Now the opening time of my doctors surgery is 8am, and I wanted an appointment that day so I phoned at 8am. Closed. 8:01, closed.  I phoned 37 times before I got through at 8:10.  And I prepared myself for a 3 week wait.  '11:15 ok?' came the response, and before I could answer she spoke again 'actually can fit you in at 8:50 if you can make it'.  I couldn't give myself time to think 'yep, perfect, thank you'

Now I'd done the crying bit so I could confidently go into the doctors, tell them I'm not feeling all too chipper, get a bit of help and be on my merry way.  So I went in, I sat down, I confidently said 'I need some help'.  'Ok, what seems to be the problem said Mrs GP' and with that I broke down like a fucking baby, again, I know I know, this isn't the well respected hard man you've come to know and love.  Now I'm a mumbler at the best of times, so add in some tears and a snotty nose and it's a wonder I didn't come out with a prescription for verruca treatment.

It was at this point however that I think the embarrassment lifted.  I'd broken down and cried in front of someone I'd never met, and admitted that I just couldn't cope anymore and I needed some help.  We spoke about various options and it was agreed that I would start on a low dose of antidepressant, interestingly my phone always wants to correct that to anti-perspirant, thanks iPhone so now I'm depressed, and I stink

I'm back to the doctors next week to discuss the next stage of treatment, cognitive behavioural therapy, something I haven't even googled yet but I'm sure I'll find out much more about over the coming weeks 

And that's pretty much where I am up to now, and to think I didn't think I had anything to write about today 

Can I finish by asking anyone that has suffered, or thinks they know someone is suffering with any kind of mental illness, to share this blog, or my first one from Monday (http://benjamincummins.blogspot.co.uk/2016/08/a-one-man-battle-with-myself.html?m=1 ), in the hope that other people might just think 'well if that bellend can do something about it, so can I' - and now I feel like the message at the end of a soap opera 'if you've been effected by the storyline.....'

Right time to get out of bed (it's actually11:40pm and I haven't even switched off the light yet) and get on the treadmill, my legs won't fuck themselves up

Happy Friday all, lets hope it's a good one 

I'm gonna catch so many worms

So here we are 3:15am, looking back on Day 2, with my 3rd blog, hopefully that makes sense, and much like the mirror in Margot Robbie's bedroom, I will try to provide a beautiful reflection

Now the day started in what may seem like a pretty unexciting way to some, with the 6:20 arrival of Amelia into my bedroom, completely naked, telling me she couldn't find any pyjamas.  On reminding her that her alarm was set for 6:45 she told me 'don't worry about that daddy' and again repeated her need for pyjamas 

This may not seem like the best way to be woken up, but today it was just what I needed, starting the day with a beautiful smiling face and an unwavering zest for life....plus to be honest she used to wake me up by jumping on my head so it's also a massive improvement 

On a non Amelia day, I set my alarm for 5:45 so that I can get up and exercise early.  I've always been an early riser, ahem, minds out of the gutter please, and find that it sets me up so much better for the day.  But today I chose not to workout, today I chose to sit and have breakfast with Amelia instead.  We ate, I chatted, she put the TV on, I chatted, she told me to be quiet, we ate and watched tv, but we did it together 

Talking of exercise, a few months back I started a group on Facebook called '30 Minutes A Day'.  Basically it is all about being active.  You don't have to run marathons or bench press 200kg.  It's about doing something everyday, for around 30 minutes that just gets you off your arse 

It's a small group and we all have different goals and different ways of achieving them. But that's what makes the group special.  Some are just starting their fitness journeys, whereas others seem to live in the gym.  I find each and every person inspiring, whether it's the girl that can squat more than I weigh, one that can run further and faster than some people can drive, or just the guy that does what he can whilst suffering from injury.  We all have our own unique story and we all have the power to motivate others.

Now today was already off to a good start, spending time with Amelia, and as I kissed her goodbye and waved her off for a night away with Grandma and Grandpa, I thought that would be the biggest grin on my face today, but it was definitely equalled by the story told by a work colleague mid morning.......and I must warn you not to read this as you're eating your breakfast 

Those of you with kids may appreciate her dilemma more than others, but she was walking through the woods with her 4 year old son, who informed her, in a way only a 4 year old could, that he 'needed a poo'.

She looked around for some where to take him, perhaps there would be a conveniently located log cabin or maybe even a yurt with ensuite facilities, but no.  His throne of choice was to be that of a log, in a quiet area of the woods, and an attempt was made at a quick uninterrupted 'deposit'.

All was going well, until that is the sound of a canine was heard, and the sound was getting closer.  Like a professionally trained bomb disposal dog, this pooch had sniffed out the suspect package.  So my colleague cleaned up her son in a hurry, pants and trousers up, good to go. But the dog was most intrigued by what he found and all of her attempts to shoe him away were no match for his determination....and hunger.  Yep, after a good old sniff, he devoured the offending article in one fail swoop.

Now your thinking this couldn't get any worse. His owner hadn't seen this kerfuffle, there was no need to tell her what had happened.  So my friend did what we all would do, she told her 4 year old to keep quiet and not mention anything to the now inquisitive puppy patroller. And like any good 4 year old, he did exactly the opposite of what he was told...proudly declaring to the lady 'your dog just ate my poo'

We didn't establish who was more embarrassed by the whole episode but we do know the dog will be wearing a muzzle from now on and we do have a whole new definition of a pooper scooper. 

The rest of the day at work passed without anything of note and the evening was spent at the pub having a long overdue catch up with one of my oldest friends. Oldest in terms of the length of time I've known him, I have some much, much older friends.  

The evening really helped, we even spoke about emotions and stuff, and men don't really do that, so in order to restore balance we followed this up by digging a big hole, building a wall, fixing a car and putting the bins out.....manly, grrr

Overall it was a good day, unfortunately followed by a restless sleep. My body wanted to switch off but my mind did not.  As with most people I'm sure, it is when we truly try to relax, when all is quiet, that our brains become most active, going through every situation leaving you thinking about how you should have done this differently or done that differently.  You can feel so in control during the day but completely lose that again at night.  I hope that nights like this will become less frequent as time passes, or I can at least learn to cope with it better. 

Oh and I had a dream about a man completing an experiment where for 6 months he could only communicate using sounds ending with umph.  It's gonna be hard going but I'm sure he'll really tri

Happy Thursday all 

The Uncomfortable Sequel

Ok so the much anticipated follow up blog. Much like an authors second book or a screenplay writers film sequel.  Will it be as good as the last one? Will I get bored halfway through? Do the calories I consume in the cinema really count towards my diet?

Well worry no more, I can assure you that this will be in no way as good as the last.  See the selling point of the last one was the shock factor.  Unexpected honesty about an affliction that so many people suffer but certainly don't talk about.  I'm afraid I don't have a great plot twist to excite and entertain today, and if this was the X Factor then you've already had my sob story so you'd actually have to hear me sing now...ahem 'turn around bright eyes'

Now whilst we're talking about yesterday's blog, I feel this is an appropriate time to reflect and give thanks.  Within the first hour after posting I received text messages, Facebook messages, comments on my post, all expressing their shock and furthermore their support.  If I was a drinking man then I'd have enough 'catch ups for a beer' to make the late great George Best look like he was teetotal.  (I apologise if that feels like bad taste....but it's not as bad a taste as actual beer, no thank you)

It should also be noted that my blogger account received 700 hits yesterday. With yesterday's blog accounting for well over 500 of those.  For someone who has written around 117 blogs (approximately) and never achieved more than around 250 hits, this was truly astounding and hopefully goes to show that people were getting something from it.  Even if that something was 'I'm glad I don't feel like that', because that's awesome too.

I should address one more issue at this point, because we all hate the grammar nazis that just love to pick up on every minor spelling mistake or missed word.  All of my blogs have always been and will always be (until I make it big and I'm sat at my super computer in my corner office overlooking Central Park) written on my phone.  Generally at around 5am when I'm awake because I've just been up for a wee (no it's not because I'm getting old, it's actually a cortisol imbalance brought about by bad diet) so I thought I would apologise now for any mistakes.  Of course I am more than happy to accept applications for the role of proofreader, but I'm pretty confident that even if you can accept the unsocial hours, you really won't like the salary.

So back to it, it's fair to say that yesterday was a pretty good day.  It's actually a great relief to say to people 'I don't feel that great all the time'.  Now I'm really not suggesting you say that to 500 people, most of which you've never met, in fairness I've never even been to Australia, Russia, Spain, China or any of the other countries it was read in yesterday, but due to pure British ignorance I will continue to expect those people to read it in English or find their own translator because to be honest 在線翻譯是無用的，它會更容易，只是學習語言

But you really should talk to somebody, and you'd be surprised how understanding people will be.  Don't suffer in silence 

So as I was saying, yesterday was a good day.  I finished work early and went out for dinner with my parents and my daughter, who for the benefit of the blog we'll call Amelia, because, well, it's her name. 

Amelia always brightens up my day and I think brightens up the day of all who meet her.  In fact she should probably be offered as therapy to people suffering with the very problem of which I write.  Except on days when she's had a late night and woken up early, and has school, and 'doesn't want cornflakes for breakfast'.

We had a great meal, we watched some Netflix and played with her new jumping beans, which don't actually jump, and finished off with a joke book at bedtime.  It left me feeling so much more positive yesterday evening and she'll soon be awake this morning and excitedly telling me about her dreams last night or what she's doing today with Grandma and Grandpa. 

Now due to an abundance of Olympics viewing and an early night on Monday I had missed out on what is usually a Monday night highlight and so became a Tuesday night one instead - Naked Attraction

Now for those of you that don't know, Naked Attraction is not just the feelings of the young lady that walked past my window yesterday morning as I did my morning stretch before realising that it had been hot the night before and I'd forgotten my pants.  But I don't think she suffered to much distress, the police officers told me that she would be offered counselling anyway and I would be offered....curtains 

No, Naked Attraction is a sort of dating show on Channel 4.  Now if you imagine pornography, I know, it's a big ask. And then take away everything about it which is appealing or arousing...and the sex, then you are left with Naked Attraction.  To give you a brief explanation, boy meets girl(s), girl(s) has no clothes on, boy chooses girl, boy removes clothes, girl stares at boy's willy, boy stares at girl's boobies whilst telling each other that it was their tattoos and their personality that they find most attractive about each other.

They go on a date, in clothes, they realise that other than finding each other more attractive than the other choices with no clothes on, they pretty much have nothing in common, they meet up again 3 weeks later, explain that it didn't work out and then we move on to a woman looking for a date and a whole lot more penis and pubic hair than anybody needs to see on a Monday evening, or any evening in fact.  Have I sold it to you...no, didn't think so

So I think that's probably enough for today.  I hope that people have read this far and that they may continue to read over the coming days.  Thanks once again for all your support.  Peace out 

A One Man Battle With Myself

Well it's been nearly two years since I've written, and even then the year previous to that was sporadic at best

So why now, what's brought me back to blogger? I need an outlet, a way to get things out, they don't need to be read by anyone else but perhaps if they are then it would create some understanding

When asked to describe yourself on a dating site I joined once, I chose 'Class Clown' and I guess that's a role I've always ended up filling, I've always been a happy, jokey kind of guy.  Well at least up until around 7 years ago

I can't pinpoint a day when things changed, I just know there was a time when things weren't quite the same, something didn't feel quite right 

They say depression is irrational and that could not be more true.  So many times I would tell myself 'you can't be depressed, what have you got to be depressed about' or 'you're just having a bad day'.  But when the bad days become the norm, when they very nearly become very bad days and the good days become fewer, you have to accept that there's a problem somewhere 

It's taken me 7 years and the end of yet another relationship to finally seek help, it's time to finally learn to love myself so that one day I can be capable of properly loving someone else and accept that someone might love me 

The next days, weeks, months, maybe even years are going to be tough ones.  There'll be good days and bad days but everyday is a journey towards getting back to just being me and being happy 

Now you may wonder why I would post something like this to a public forum.  Surely I should be embarrassed about this, surely it makes me less of a man to admit that sometimes I just feel really fucking sad.  But you see the thing is, you can be sad on your own, you can feel worthless on your own, sometimes you can even feel like jumping off a bridge on your own.  

What is harder to do on your own is tell jokes, laugh, sing, dance, run, eat, do triple somersaults (I don't think any number of people can help with that one).  Being around people is one of the best medicines, people that support you even though you're sometimes a dick, people that don't care about how much you earn, what car you drive, how big your pen...collection is.  People that just accept you for who you are. 

Now you're thinking, surely he's not going to start writing a blog about how shit he feels every day.  Who the fuck wants to read that?  And you'd think nobody, heck even I may not read this back. But maybe, just maybe, there'll be other people that think 'yeah do you know what, I've had enough of feeling this way, maybe I should do something about it'

So I'm gonna try and write a diary of sorts.  Good days, bad days (don't worry I'm intending to focus on the good) fun days and sad days.  And maybe it will create a better understanding of a problem that effects so many that so few talk about 

Happy Tuesday everyone, enjoy the day because you never know when your last Tuesday will come