How did it come to this?

I have wanted to do something like this for a while; get my writing out to the world, let the people bathe in my words and wash away their feelings of loneliness. As an egotistical man, I have always believed what I say is of the utmost importance and my voice must be heard in order to create peace and enlightenment across the lands. But I've always got in the way of myself. The shocking realisation that this is not a solipsistic life and I am not the messiah (just a very naughty boy), the fact that my writing isn't as illuminative and refined as I'd like to believe, and also, I have crippling anxiety stemming from a deep distrust of others and a fear of never being accepted. All of which hidden behind an arrogant, unflinching bravado. You know - man stuff.

So - why now? What has happened to make me feel like I should put my thoughts out there? Why am I now comfortable doing so?

Well, first of all, I don't feel comfortable. In fact, this feels incredibly uncomfortable to me. And for someone who is known to have outspoken ambitions to be a writer in some context, putting my writing out there should be the most natural thing to do, right? Right. It should be. But it isn't. One's writing is a reflection of oneself (said the Queen. Probably.), and it is really hard to put yourself out there; to be scrutinised and criticised, in any way. Especially on an increasingly hostile and abusive internet. But fuck trolls - I'm not here for them; I'm here for you.

Each day on this journey through fatherhood, I face new emotions. A lot of the time, they are about how incredible this is. Every single day is full of joy and awe and mesmerizing moments thanks to my daughter. Moments all too fleeting that I wish I could just hold on to until my days are done. But within an instant they are gone, and I am forced to confront feelings to the contrary; fear... doubt... anxiety... despair. Am I a good enough human being to look after this teeny-tiny human being? To be a role model? To have that massive responsibility?

In March 2020, I was furloughed from my job because of the pandemic. Our interpretation of 'normal' has been flung from the atmosphere, and it will not return. We are left with uncertainty. My wife has returned to work. I have become a stay-at-home father. If these cynical feelings were evident before Covid - they are more than abundant now. I spend most of my days interacting with one person; my 1 year old. I speak in 'baby-voice' with no interaction with an adult human for the vast majority of my time. I speak in baby-voice in my own fucking head most of the time (Awwh, did Daddy have an iddy-biddy mental bweakdown? Would Daddy like a bottle? How's stout?). I felt lonely. And lost. I didn't know where or who to turn to. I kept asking myself, am I really alone? Do other fathers feel this way?

I can't answer that question. There may be some with whom that what I am saying resonates. For others, maybe not. Either way - I know I'm not alone, and I'd hate to think other fathers feel that way. Because while we all, daily, experience unique and unequivocal emotions, there are shared, mutual milestones in which we share similar moments of joy and/or sadness. And I want us to connect over our individual feelings on common occurrences.

I have suffered from depression and anxiety for many years longer than the 10 I already know about. They festered and toxicated without my ability to share, connect, or ask for help. My belief was that these personal issues were completely personal, and could not be addressed with help from another. Isn't that the bullshit, masculine approach to internal dilemmas many of us men have been taught?

It doesn't have to be that way. It shouldn't be that way. We'd never tell another person to deal with this shite alone. So let's practice what we preach.

I will share my own experiences and choices and poetry and lifestyle, but this isn't just about me. I mean, it mostly is. It's my fucking blog and I am the fucking lizard King. But I want more. I want you. I want sharing. I want trust. I want bonding. I want community. I want you to know that you are never alone. Even when you think you may be, there is guaranteed to be people who are on your wavelength. But you'll never know if you don't put yourself out there.

So - read, reach out, comment, chat, share. Let go of that fear. That's what I want this to be about. A community. No man is an island. And don't they say it takes a village to raise a child? I hope we can all find that village here. Let's raise your child together. I want to raise your child. Give me your child.

Wait.

Sorry. I got carried away in metaphors.

We're in this together. Alright?