Dad Talk – Body No Confidence

DAD BOD ALERT, This is way out of my comfort zone.

When I was 15 I started playing for a 5 a side team in a league, I felt awesome. 15, and playing in a men’s league. From that day forward I have always felt the buzz of playing in 5 a side leagues. Totally love it.

When I was 16 I was athletic, like lightening, agile and ripped but weighed about 9.5 stone. I totally hated being bullied off the ball by men and teenagers that where more muscular than me.

Introduce another addiction, the gym. I joined with the intention of gaining a bit of strength, and putting on a little muscle. No real guidance, just bought men’s health and thought “soon, I will look like one of these guys”. I started buying weight gaining stacks from maxi muscle (now maxi nutrition) and smashed the gym when ever I could.

I ate everything in sight, no regard to calories of macro nutrients. I didn’t even know what they were.

Having an office job, and now being 19 / 20 I had gained weight and size, but no six pack in sight. Now i had strength, nobody knocked me off the ball. I had an overconfidence in my football ability, and my strength. Almost an arrogance.

21 saw me get my first major injury, snapping ligaments in my ankle. I could barely walk for about 4 months. Weigh was piling on, but now it was hanging over my waist.

Since that day I have totally hated my body. I sit with my arms over my belly, even when I get in shape and may have a flat (flatter) stomach, I am ashamed of it.

On holidays I rarely have my shirt off, I just hate the thought of people seeing my in public not being covered up.

Since being 21 I have had every football, gym, cycling or outdoors injury you can imagine and my fitness is now the lowest it has ever been. I HATE IT.

I hate not being able to smash weights in the gym, go bouldering for 2 hours, run 15 miles no issue, play football for 90 minutes or cycle 30 miles like I used to. In my mind it is pathetic.

Exercise isn’t a means to an end for me. I enjoy it. I want to do it. Unfortunately I am still waiting to get over an operation, I don’t have the time or insert other excuse here……..

Dad Talk – I.D. Please

Who am i again please?

I love being a dad. I love my kids more than anything, it is challenging yes, but it is rewarding and that isn’t just a cliche. Watching them grow, their personalities develop and the unconditional love they show is just amazing.

In any story their is always a but, in this case a large one.

Being a dad is stressful, we know before they are even born that with fatherhood comes stresses and pressures not realised before. In my case I couldn’t prepare for what was to come because what Caine isn’t in any book and I don’t hear many dads talking about it.

One thing is for sure, i am definitely not the only one that has gone through what i am about to share.

The absolutely worst thing about becoming a dad for me, is the loss of my identity as a man, as a person.

Some days i look in the mirror, if i dare, and i have no idea of who that person looking back at me really is.

I used to be fit, motivated and driven. Now i am just fat, sluggish and everything i do feels like a major operation. Even just taking a shower some days takes some real effort.

No one talks about it, I am not sure it is even a thing, but post-natal depression in men must be a thing. Like a full on real thing. In the last few years, concentration levels for me have completely evaporated. Days roll into one.

What used to set me apart was how sharpe and polished I was with work assignments. What people didn’t realise is that it used to be so easy for me, now some of the simple daily tasks can take some real figuring out.

Am i the only dad that works hard, comes home to arguing kids, goes through the trauma of bedtime at the zoo and doesn’t know where he is until its 9 sometimes 10 at night? No, I’m not. Does that make it any easier? No, it doesn’t.

Some evenings, getting the kids bathed and ready for bed is nothing short of psychological warfare. I just want to scream. But then when you go back up to check on them and they are sleeping and they look adorable and your heart just wants to explode with love you wonder, was it that bad? Yes, yes it was that bad and worse sometimes.

I remember a distant time where the 5 o’ clock bell would ring, I’d down tools at work and head to the gym, or the climbing works in Sheffield and enjoy some exercise with friends. I’d play football, or go out on the bike.

Evenings would consist of having something to eat in peace and quiet in front of a good movie, sometimes I’d go to the cinema mid week just because i could.

Work would be easy for me, I’d remember every project and i’d would be the most driven man in the office. Some days now i can’t even remember my login password or how i got to work that morning.

Would i change anything? Absolutely not. A heads up would have been nice.

Do I regret having my 3 beautiful kids? Absolutely not, i love them more than life itself, it’d just be nice to have a bit more me time or do do some leisurely recreation without feeling i need to squeeze my me time into small 10 and 15 minutes slots – if i can that is.

Dad Talk – I am not broken!

Hmm, so I’m not broken.

MASSIVE moment for me. I am not broken. I repeat, I am not broken.

As a man. A dad. A husband, it is all too easy to think that I am a failure because I take medication. I am a failure because I am not bomb proof and I do struggle mentally and emotionally.

When I first got prescription medication for anxiety and depression, I swore my wife to secrecy. There in lies the problem. We need to express our emotions and issues whether we are a man or woman.

Hiding is not the answer.

Withdrawal from friends, family and society is the complete opposite to the answer, in many cases it is the root cause.

I am studying mental health awareness to better understand myself and to help others too. I have just watched an amazing TED TALK and in there it explains that depression is not a sign we are broken. Rather it is a warning, a signal, that we need to address some issue or underlying problem in our life.

Factors that cause depression are varied and are not a chemical imbalance. Yes, some of the issues are biological but they do not se your path in life.

Some of the contributing factors include work, and not having control. We may never step foot in the great outdoors. We could be convinced we don’t have a purpose or don’t belong. We could be out of our depth with being a dad and going to the office each and every day.

Loneliness is a massive cause of depression.

Imagine if you are sat there reading this thinking i struggle with all of the above?? Wow, there is no wonder you, I, we struggle with depression, anxiety, parenting and the pressures that each day present us.

One thing I really can’t cope with is social settings. Even if it is a room full of friends. But that is exactly where we need to be. We need human interaction, it is what we were designed for.

Quite often we get ourselves in a situation, as men. I will sort this on my own. I am going to sit in this dark room, watch Netflix, put the xbox on or listen to music and tomorrow I will be fine.

I will tell you this. The above wont fix me, and withdrawing will have the opposite effect. Feeling we fit as part of a group, we have friends we can depend on and someone to talk to this is what I need.

I need to listen to the signal, work with it and stop thinking I am inferior or broken.

Dad Talk – Communichate

Withdrawing, this is the fall back option.

I am not stupid. I know that if I am in a dark place mentally and emotionally, then the best thing to do is to talk about the place that I’m in. I can talk to Marta, my best friend or even a colleague if I want.

I am not stupid. I know that I have loads of good friends, probably more than the average dad.

None of the above stop me from seeking my comfort zone. My comfort zone is locked within the battle zone known as my mind. Whilst it is a dangerous place, it is still my safe place.

My reasoning is, “well, if I don’t understand how I feel or what is going on in my mind, then how can express that to others”. So. So, then I withdraw. I fall back into the dark corridor of my mind and go quiet.

Then what?

Well, then I start to sink. The funny thing about this expression is that it really does feel like sinking. The kind of sinking where you are powerless to battle it or stop the inevitable drowning.

I’m not stupid. I know that talking is the best remedy. But. I. HATE. IT.

Whilst I am trying to express how I feel, I can feel myself losing control. I like control. I love control. I’m not in control anyway, so what is the harm in talking?

I know when I start talking I am going to not only lose control of my emotions, but I lose control of the situation, how someone may feel or think about me.

Expressing myself is difficult, because when the words come out of my mouth all I hear are stupid comments. “I feel caged”, “I no longer feel like a man”, “I have lost my identity as a man since becoming a dad”.

These comments, now they are written down no longer feel stupid to me because it is true. I love being a dad, a father, a provider. I just don’t always love who i have become.

I need that camaraderie with other men, be that playing football, out hiking or sharing a pint of ale in a country pub. I need the mindless banter with friends, that for two hours doesn’t involve kids or the incessant arguing.

I hate communicating. Not because I don’t want to talk, but I FEEL ASHAMED of how I feel. I know I am struggling with depression, anxiety, the daily dad struggles but I don’t want to sound un-grateful.

Withdrawing seems the easy option.

I am not stupid. I know that in the long run, withdrawing is damaging to my wellbeing, relationships and everything in between. I just hate talking about me.

Eventually the darkness becomes all consuming. That isn’t good. The days become grey, the nights become long.

Thankfully I managed to force myself to talk about some things at the weekend. Am I cured? No. Have the issues gone? No. Do I feel better? Not entirely. But I feel lighter. The problems are not sat on my shoulders, but instead the weight has shifted and the weight shared.

Will I talk the next time things get on top of me?

Yes. Maybe. Probably not.

Dad Talk – My Second Anxiety Attack.

My second anxiety attack was a particularly hard episode.

After my first anxiety attack, i have had numerous episodes where i have been overly anxious buy by and large the episodes are and have been manageable.

When I say manageable what I mean is that I just deal with it. Sometimes I follow a process that I have learnt (a dedicated post to follow), sometimes I just try to breathe and take a moment.

BUT!

My second full blown episode was at a large gathering. It is a place I have been many many times. I am familiar with the surroundings, and know everyone that goes there. But this particular time that we went as a family, I was driving on the way there and I became acutely aware of myself.

All of a sudden all I could think was about my appearance, my thoughts, and everything in between. I was thinking “what will everyone there think of me”. I started to think very negatively about myself.

“I am a loser” because I struggle with depression. “I am not a man” because I have anxiety issues. Then I was getting anxious because of my anxiety. One. Vicious. Circle.

I parked up, and got the kids out and got them settled in side. My senses were then heightened when it sunk in just how many people were there. What do they see when they look at me? What must they think of me? I look tired. I feel dishevelled. Exhausted. Old. I feel old. I look old.

“I have to get out of here”.

“Why am I even here? I just want to be at home”

Seeking refuge in the toilets I snuck into a cubicle and sat down. Head on my hands. Elbows on my knees. Then I just gave in and burst in to tears and tried furiously to catch my breath.

Just like the first time I remember being cold. Drenched in sweat. Shivering. This was going on for an eternity, everyone must have noticed that I am not there by now. (2 minutes had gone by if that!!).

I went to the sink, washed my face, composed myself and walked back to my family. Bottom lip quivering. Hands shaking. I have to be stronger in front of my kids. They don’t deserve to see me like this. I hid the whole episode as well as possible.

This shouldn’t be happening here. I am comfortable here. This is somewhere I come every week, I know everyone here. Being a familiar place couldn’t stop this one.

Anxiety has no consideration for me as a person or where I am, if it wants to get me it will!!

Marta could see on my face that something had happened, i just looked the other way out of shame.

Why was I ashamed? Why hide my feelings and experiences?

Because that’s what i do. I withdraw.

Dad Talk – The Joker.

The joker, hiding behind my own whit.

I thought it was important to elaborate on a previous post, the Joker. It is important for so many reasons. Whilst it is almost funny that I often hide behind a persona it is also vitally important to realise that it isn’t right to hide who you are.

Yes, it is amazing to make people laugh and for everyone to think “he is so funny”, or “his whit is so quick, I don’t know how he thinks so fast”. It is a defence mechanism, a guard. It is the flight when I should fight.

No, I am not physically running away, nor do I physically want to fight. But, it is a scary thought that I’d rather hide my true personality, cover up my real emotion rather than be seen for what I truly am. Which in most scenario’s is scared, nervous, anxious.

Making light of situations, scenarios and issues has gotten me so far but has now stopped working. Now, I feel crazy because I don’t know if I understand the situation anymore.

Creating a face, a personality, a character in the nervous situations in life takes energy. That energy needs re-charging. Us men need stimulation to recharge them batteries in in hind sight I wish I had managed to keep up with football, the gym, or climbing.

Yes, you have children and you have to cut back on somethings due to time and/or money constraints. But do we need to give up everything. That mid week 5 a side game can help to relieve stress, blow off steam and lift your mood.

I seriously miss that camaraderie of team sports, getting older only makes playing harder.

It has become so easy for me to have banter with colleague, family and friends. In these social environments it is the sarcastic and quick whit which is more often than not my go to response. It annoys me, so it must really annoy others at times.

Recently finding my voice in my blog, with a select few colleagues and some family / close friends has made me realise it isn’t just good to talk it is vital.

I promise, I have found out more about myself in the last few months than I can believe. Behind the roaring laugh is often hiding a panicking wreck shattered from nights of sleepless worry ridden nights making light of another situation.

At the same time I started my blog I started a men’s only forum on Facebook called “a Dad’s Mind”. This group quickly grew, and became as important to me as it was the men who had joined. We have since had a meet up and have another one next week. Find details here.

What has become incredibly obvious to me now, hit me like a bolt. Idle chit chat and mindless banter between men has a place. But we need to make room for serious conversation, we need to discuss our feelings with someone. Us men have a serious issue with being serious.

But I mean, “why so serious?” As the Joker would say. really, what is the point in my being miserable and absent whilst being in a room fully of family if no one knows what I am hiding. We are hiding these feelings from ourselves more importantly. Let the feelings out, share them with a best friend. Family. A colleague.

Losing my personality and identity as a person created a monster that has finally risen to the surface. Packing in all of my hobbies and interests felt like the answer at the time. Felt like it meant i was being a better dad for making sure I was at home more often than I wasn’t other than for working.

This solution that I came up with ended up being the problem, the start of a downward spiral where I lost track of who i were and became a beige person in my own mind.

Speaking up has been an emotional rollercoaster and yes at times I have felt crazier than ever. Slowly but surely I am coming to terms that I am normal. I am a man, a father, that struggles. The worst that can come from talking to someone is that i have cried in front of people. I am man enough to admit it. But man, does it feel better.

Dad Talk – Book Wormed.

The frustrations of losing your focus.

Books have been a passion of mine all of my life. That smell of opening a new book for the first time. Escapism. Adventure. Imagination. Suspense. They are always better than the film. My first “grown up” novel was “The Chamber” by John Grisham.

It was life changing for me. Just like that I couldn’t get enough of John Grisham, I would rifle through the books in a few days.

When I got my own place at 21 I had over 250 books and I’d read them all and more.

Life and circumstances change all the time and having my own place changed my perspective. I had my own rules now, and would be out a lot more. Pub. Gym. Biking. I had control of the TV so the film world was now huge and exciting also. Naturally books took a back seat to all of these distractions. Having said this, I would still get through a book almost monthly. It was still important to me.

Fast forward to married life and the numbers dropped again. More responsibility and distractions.

Fast forward to having our first child and the reading completely stopped. Full stop. No time. But time wasn’t really the issue. I’d been wormed. I no longer had the concentration levels to smash through the pages, or to pick the book back up again. I’d find that I’d regularly re-read pages several times. Over and over, forgetting what i’d just read.

I couldn’t understand it, and the reading stopped. Frustration won out. Occasionally I’d get a new book for a holiday or a business trip. That was it though, books just weren’t a full part of my life any longer. Reading was no longer a past time I enjoyed nor felt easy to do.

Last year I took part in a stress management course and they frequently discussed concentration levels. Struggling with anxiety, depression / stress has had a serious impact on my concentration and focus.

This in turn has impacted my confidence in my ability to perform tasks I would have previously found routine.

Being a book worm is a positive thing for so many reasons. It keeps your mind active and expansive. Being effectively wormed, the mind shrinks or that is how it feels.

Dad Talk – The facade

Dad Talk – Hiding in plain sight

Thinking about it this follows on from my post the joker.

All of my life, and genuinely from a young age, i have tried with everything i have to give out the persona that i am confident and unshaded by anything. I’m not.

Rather than look scared, shy or quiet I would often be the loudest. The first to comment in class (even if wrong), the first to volunteer to help someone or be involved with something. I always want to give the vibe that I am capable of doing anything even when I know I cant. I want to be the most confident in the room. Any room.

From a young age I have done public speaking in various capacities. I remember applying for a new role at the first company I worked for. The role was built entirely around meeting with engineers and architects. Often giving presentations on our products and their capabilities. The first few I went with my manager to learn from him. Then came my first one.

My first one alone was in Bristol, I caught the train at 6:00am. As I was only 20 I couldn’t use the company pool car.

All the way there I was nervous feeling sick. I can’t even remember the presentation itself, but all the way home I was convinced I was awful. I’m not sure how I got through it. I felt embarrassed to the core. My manager, without my knowing, had requested a review and only got positives from them. I just didn’t believe him. I’d already convinced my self otherwise.

After that it was my sole ambition to get out of that company as i just couldn’t stand the thought of doing it anymore (even though if done it at every job lol). All eyes were on me. Or so I thought. Moving from that company is one of my biggest regrets to this day.

The facade…it’s real. What a powerful yet short statement. I have lived behind that facade my entire life. Pretending to be bold, brash and confident. The alpha. I’m not and never have been. I’m me. Just that now i am an exhausted me from all the hiding but it is just too late to be anything but now. It is weak to be the real me, surely.

Dad Talk – The Nail Biter

Biting my nails, not just a dirty habit.

I will tell you a story.

When i was working for “the bully” mentioned in previous posts, i used to do a lot of driving. London one day and Glasgow the next. I am the most punctual person you know, but i could always guarantee that he would call me en route to ensure that i was on time, was wearing a tie, knew who i was meeting and where, had brushed my teeth and had remembered to put my pants on.

Almost, quite literally.

As i was always an hour early to my appointments i would often pop for a coffee first. Now, i have always been a nail biter. Nasty habit i know, but it is a nervous reaction to events like driving, public speaking, meetings or idiots calling to check up on me.

This one time, i was sat in the services outside Glasgow and he was in a particularly snarly mood snapping at all of my answers (which by the way were always polite, quite frankly he scared me). After the call i felt so anxious and wound up that i sat and bit / ripped my nails raw. Most were bleeding and sore, but the pain was refreshing and took my mind off how i felt. I got in the car and smashed my first of 5 visits that day, the 3rd of which was a presentation to 25 engineers in Glasgow centre.

I had been working for him for about 4 months at this stage, and over the next year i slipped into what was real anxiety and depression. Whilst i had struggled with low mood all my life at this point, this was the first time where it became unbearable and I couldn’t cope.

Over that next year i got so low that the nail biting got so bad I couldn’t stand to touch anything with my finger tips. The next thing i knew, i was seriously thinking about getting a knife to cut myself. I needed the release, and would vividly think about doing it. Some of the darkest days i thought about killing myself, convinced i was pathetic and the world was better without me.

All because of a man that got real satisfaction from pulling others down and treating them like dirt.

It was the middle of that next year when i first started to take anti-depressants. This i found embarrassing and considered myself to be a failure.

Dad Talk – The Joker

The original Joker.

I love being the funny one. I love a Dad joke too.

I’ve always had this quick wit, often sarcastic. The ability to make a room laugh when in a group.

It’s all a façade. Its a way of hiding in a crowd. Often I make jokes because I’m nervous and just don’t want to be there. It is a way of masking my insecurities and embarrassment at times.

Sometimes I will be sat in a group, or with some friends, and will make a remark or a quip and instantly regret it. Sort of a say now an think later moment. Then later I will be at home, or walking the dog and I will think “why did I say that”?

I almost have two default settings. Either loud, trying to be funny. Or quiet, then people think I look miserable. There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground with me, although I am working on it.

Being the funny one has other problems too. Just because I seem like I talk freely and openly with people, make jokes, or hold conversations with anyone, people think I am confident and outgoing when I think that the opposite is the truth.

I am simply not confident, especially in myself, and when it comes to being outgoing I really believe I am quite shy. Others wouldn’t agree.

The Joker – The ultimate defence mechanism.