Some things we don’t talk about.

I am not a writer. I couldn’t be further away from that, if superman swooped down and chucked me as far as he could ( I’m a big bloke, so I dare say it would be a challenge ).

I’m writing this blog, detailing all the boring, mundane, everyday, sometimes exciting or funny  shit town, to help me stave off the boredom of being a house husband and going slightly mad.  That’s it, you read that right , I’m a kept man bitches!

I’ve recently lost my lost.  We decided between us, that it was better all round for me to stay at home, do the usual mum things, but as a dad.  Go figure.  Thebeanspoonerswife has a pretty important job,  She is qualified through the ceiling, and has always been proud of what she does.  Don’t get me wrong, I love and adore her to pieces, and she is my own personal geek, we are all very proud of her!  So it was decided I would be a stay at home parent.  I do the usual housework, and grocery shop ( on-line as I don’t drive), and generally take care of the day-to-day stuff that needs doing.

We are an equal participation couple and family.  There are no pink or blue jobs. There is no, I did this, you can do that!  If it needs doing, it gets done!

I find ironing very calming oddly.


I’m finding writing today, pretty hard.  I have a tonne of things I want to write down, but either can’t be bothered, or just don’t really want to.

I want to sleep.  But I can’t as I’m still waiting for the electrician to turn up, work his magic, and give us power back to both sides of the fucking house!

I have to go careful with mental health.  Yeah yeah, he’s on that bandwagon you are thinking.  A few years back, I had a breakdown,  I’m honestly not ashamed or afraid to say it.  Due to stress in my job, I had a full on nervous and emotional breakdown.  Thing is, you don’t realise you are having a breakdown, unless someone points it out, and you stop and think about it ( trust me, you don’t stop and think ), or you go see a professional who tells you you’ve had one, and this is how you/we are going to deal with it.

It was horrible.  Not like a bad morning, or a bad day horrible.  But pure horrid.  I can only imagine I was the biggest fucking wanker in the world while I was going through it, and I’m sure if you ask thebeanspoonerswife, she will agree.

We she used to leave of a morning with Magoo for school, I’d get up, all happy and smiling, sometimes even having a shower and getting dressed, like a fully functioning member of society.  The moment I saw them drive away, if I was dressed, I’d change back into pyjama’s go grab a duvet and hide.  I don’t mean like hide like a 4-year-old building a duvet fort, I mean hide.  I’d grab my phone, my iPad, duvet and a cushion, and go sit in the bathroom.  Where we used to live we had a huge bathroom.  The bath was centred in there.  It was huge.  The perfect place for someone to hide under a duvet all day.  So that’s what i did. I got comfy in the bath, chucked the duvet over me, and used it as a roof.  Turned my iPad on and got comfy for the day.

That was a good day.  I used to have days when I’d sit in bed, not communicate, only get out to use the toilet, and just stay silent, hiding.  I’ve hidden next to, or under the bed sometimes, just to feel that little more of a disconnection with everyone and everything.

Men don’t talk about these things.  I’ve had days when I’ve text thebeanspoonerswife, told her that’s it, I’ve had enough, and thought about packing a bag, and walking away from it all. I’ve had those thoughts as well, about ending it……whats the point, as everyone would be better off without you.  But then you get reminded, by someone you have known longer than you havent, that you are a dad, a good dad, a best friend, a husband, and someones family.

It’s the kick you need, by the person you respect and love the most.  I did seek help.  I don’t know whether it did help or not.  Magoo helped.  There’s no better way than getting a kick up the arse, to stop being a self-centred wanker, than knowing a small person depends on you, and needs you.

I credit getting slightly better to my family.  My two special people.

I’m not close to my parents, not just in distant, but relationship wise. It really is for another day that story.  I’m closer to my dad.  I told him I had had a break down.  It was sort of a taboo subject that never really gets mentioned.  He just told me to pick my self up and get on with.

Bruce has always played a pivotal role as well.  He’s always there, hes beyond loyal.  He keeps me company and is brilliant for conversations, Bruce is indeed my hero dog!

Magoo, well he saved me, along with thebeanspoonerswife.  I will never be able to thank either one of them enough.  She never once judged me, and put up with all my shit, to sit with me, hiding and crying, holding me and telling me she loved me, and we would get through everything together, as we are a family, just the three of us.  Magoo would always hug me, cheer me up ( he still does ).  I may bitch and moan about him, but, well, he will never know what he did for an emotionally stunted man, who most days thought about killing himself, and part of me hopes he never does.

You do get better.  Not totally, as I don’t think you ever do or could.  I have good days, and bad days.  The good out way the bad by miles, and even when they are bad, they are just little blimp days, as you learn to cope and drag yourself along,

Sorry if this has taken a sombre turn, but hey, it’s for my sanity, and this was on my mind today.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s