When something doesn’t work out

I joined WAY – Widowed and Young after Lyndie’s death, maybe the October after she died.

I had a recommendation about it and things like that.

So, I was thinking yeah that’d be great, others in same position.

I had no idea that it’s mainly men that die young.

At times much younger than their spouses.

Some other people’s stories were heartbreaking.

I knew that there’s no scale of loss, that someone else’s experience didn’t invalidate mine, but at times with accidents or long illnesses, I did think bloody hell.

What many people had that I didn’t was a goodbye. Where they knew their person was dying. I have to admit jealousy on that as even getting that would have been better.

I’m rational and knew once I was told that it was it.

Many people struggle and I really understand that. They wish for their ‘rubbish new life’ to stop and go back to where they were with their person.

If wishes were given flight.

But unfortunately, it’s more difficult and messy and emotional.

For me, I had a long phase of shock after Lyndie died. I had to be functional for the kids I had to be Dad. There wasn’t another way.

Messy grief came five months in, I had just started thinking I could maybe get back to work and then whoosh. Memories and thoughts and seeing her.

It was about that point that I figured the WAY stuff was Facebook groups, I sort of joined and learned and communicated again. I had some feedback, not answers as such but it helped to know that it wasn’t just me.

And that’s the value, shared experiences.

But it was all in the Facebook groups

I tried once to go to a in person meet in Glasgow. I had a panic attack on the train out from Paisley. Couldn’t do it.

There was a coffee meet up in East Kilbride at a museum cafe. I had no idea which table of people it was and my shyness just got me, so I had coffee and a biscuit and left.

That’s all on me. I’m hopeless with people, it’s difficult for me in those situations.

But, then lockdown came in 2020.

At that point I needed the groups and I think it kept a lot of people sane in their day to day.

I never really got to anything after that. I had a period where I left the groups and kept away from it.

Last year, I realised I needed some support and went back into some of the groups. One that’s related but not official wouldn’t have me, which was a bit difficult but I had to take that.

I’d contribute by posting or commenting, I didn’t sit back and just lurk. I guess I believe if you join something you at least try.

With the fourth anniversary of Lyndie’s death coming up, I had some thinking to do. I don’t think I’m getting anywhere and I’m okay with the kids here, but struggle without them. Carer hours changed and I no longer have a weekend off.

As my other blog posts have said, dating isn’t the answer and I have to accept my situation and take from there. That doesn’t mean a stoic attitude and that I’m on my own to my death. I may meet someone organically but that would take time and it’s not something I can make happen.

It also meant questioning if I stayed with WAY. It was compounded by leaving another unofficial group and I just felt anything I posted was in moderation. My last few posts over a fortnight were like that and I ended up deleting after they had been in moderation for about three or four hours.

Maybe nothing personal, maybe not related to me, but I had wanted to communicate about my last attempt with match and how badly it went. Basically I was just looking. I hadn’t the confidence to even message a hello.

So, that was a group I had dipped in and out of as well as the main official group. One other that was very helpful and supportive, I won’t talk about, but I said thanks to them.

So, I’m going to let the subscription expire. I didn’t find people locally to befriend/talk to/know and I guess that was the biggest downside and a lot of that is on me for not making things in person before the lockdown.

I’m not saying anything negative, it just didn’t work out for me.

With carer hours I can’t go down to England or do things like that, nights out even locally would be tough. I have to resolve or reconfigure that if I can.

I need to find the resources on acceptance. I have to be here for the kids, I have no option on that. My first priority and I have to be healthy and fit enough to do that.

Coping with loneliness is what I need to accept and deal with and with my lack of people skills I’m always going to struggle face to face. I have to figure that out in a workable way.

It’s saying that yes there’s a future of some kind and I need to look in other directions and other ways.

I’ve unfollowed on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram people from WAY, as well as organisation itself. It’s not personal, just that I know I have to adapt without that environment and what I need isn’t virtual, it’s real people in and around where I am.

All I hope is that whatever advice or comments that I made across the nearly four years were worthwhile and my love to all of those people, as I said above, it’s heartbreaking to read and understand other people’s situations.

For me, I have the fourth anniversary of Lyndie’s death on Friday, I had never set out to mark or make a point of the death date, but it will be significantly on my mind and I guess I take it from there.

Milestone

Halfway? Midway?

Partways Through.

I’ve looked older than I am for a long time. Balding, Grey Hair.

Maybe I’ve looked at it too far ahead, but I have in my head what to do.

Senior.

Older/Elder/Mature – whatever.

More labels

Autistic/Disabled/Widower/Sole Parent.

I already have enough.

Alone.

I guess, I had an idea in my head that if it didn’t work out by this date that I’d quit.

Zen Monk.

Zen – chilled acceptance, at ease with my situation and there for the kids.

Monk – alone, no partner, with no one, chill and thoughtful, celibate.

A concept that I’d just find a way to accept and do that as I’d hit a point where I’d look stupid continuing to look/ continuing to think there was a person to save me.

Having a bit of fucking dignity.

Keeping my head up.

Philosophy, Psychology and it also means a little less of all this and a little more about writing on other things.

My journey in widowerhood. My struggles with mental health and autism. My feelings, emotions and issues. The loneliness. Emptiness, Loss, Damage.

I have to now go with my plan, less descriptions, more living, less being and more being aware. Less hurt, less crying, less heartache, finding my place, finding a way.

I’ve wished everyday it was me and not her. I’ve had so much to learn and so much to try and so much to do.

Yet I haven’t the time when I have time. After 3 years, she’d have moved on. She’d have started again, she’d have taken it on. She would be 42. Plenty to live for. Plenty.

For me, it’s different. I have to give myself to the kids and particularly my boys. I have to prepare them for adulthood with what they have.

I maybe don’t need a distraction. I have enough to do with the kids and I have company with the dog.

Maybe I need another dog.

If you’ve read and followed my posts thank you. But I think it’s time that I self described and took my journey privately.

There will still be things to write about, but now is the time to do that and make the milestone work for me and not to be a millstone.

Peace and Love to you.

What if? (Life Experience)

What if, the fact that I’ve been through so much in terms of ‘Life Experience’ that I’ve came out of all that, still intact, but maybe with a nicer perspective on life that maybe someone same age who’s ‘plain sailed’?

What if knowing about loss and grief and losing someone that should still be here has made me listen to others stories, to understand and be empathetic?

What if struggling away with my own issues has given me that insight as to how everyone has something going on?

What if the strength and dogginess that I’ve had to use is actually a good thing?

What if knowing about my own and my son’s conditions make me worldlier in understanding autism and mental health and the whole shebang that goes on inside minds?

What if I’ve learned patience?

What if I’m a ‘better person’?

I don’t really know.

Remember that I’m inside me, I see the mirror, same face, the thoughts rumble in my head and eventually words come onto the screen of my smartphone. I’m sort of dumbfounded by the accessibility of my thoughts at times.

And it’s maybe from seeing a character in a TV show saying ‘I’m good!’ – maybe just that and how simple that seems.

Simple to a man of doubt and worry and anxiety as expressing my self and saying ‘I’m this or I’m that’ isn’t always an easy thought. There’s a following sentence to qualify a statement or modesty or sense of being proper that maybe stops me getting too far ahead of myself.

I know the trials and tribulations of going through things is hard, I recently thought about the anniversary of my mum’s death and thinking through how that felt and how much of a thing that was to go through and deal with at the time.

Remembering her influence and trying to think through what she would think about what I’m going through.

A message from a friend today saying how well I manage with the kids and everything else, got my usual modest answer as I don’t feel that way and that there’s always something else coming up or going on and i’m thinking about them here and now as well as planning ahead.

Then I think, where does that leave me and ‘what if’ – I am doing okay by them and despite all that life experience, I’m sober, I’m there for them and doing what I can. I don’t see parenting or ‘dadding’ as a chore or a contest, I’m not looking for praise or trying to be better than someone else, as I said above as we’ve all got something going on.

But maybe one day my ‘what if’s’ maybe might get someone to see what’s inside me and see that I’m worthwhile.

‘The Grind’

The things I know are the basics, taking care of the kids, looking after the dog. Clean toilets, clean sinks, dispose of food that’s gone.

I know the needs of the kids, what they can and can’t do and what to do for them and what to encourage them with.

Mainly it’s keeping everyone on an even keel, no big drama or excitement and home is where they unwind after school.

I say that at three weeks into the school holidays. We’ve been away, we’ve got back and settling into the summer.

Grandparents are taking one for a week, the other has ASN playscheme for a week, we have that to take us closer to end of July.

Similar to lots of parents but, I know from last summer that I’ll be kept busy and I have to start thinking sizes, tops and jumpers, their trousers and the rigmarole of shoes.

They don’t grow at an even rate and there’s no point stocking up for the new school year. Some of last years will work and some new things needed.

So, it’s using quiet moments to figure what’s next, think activities, days out and what to do. Plan some shopping and see what can go to clothing banks at the schools and things.

I have an idea of next years holiday and how much and what’s needed. I have to balance with thinking Christmas, differently timed birthdays and whatever else will come up.

It’s in my hands and I can plan and think it through whilst doing the day to day parenting and caring.

I had some evening time on holiday to think, it was quiet and no distractions, so I figured what’s up with me and what exactly I can do.

It’s going to be to accept things.

I had my ‘ten days’ before going on holiday and to be honest, it was frustrating, pointless as much as anything after the initial excitement and hope wore off.

I also had to use that thinking to grind at myself. A bit of annoyance over my weight, some self sympathy over the lost months with covid as well as genuine sadness that I had struck a friendship and a few things as well as the lockdowns made that not work out.

I threw around in that grinding, how I felt, cleaning, doing laundry, planning clothes, making meals, budgeting, planning for events.

Not a sense that I’d lost my maleness or that I was effete, more a sort of knowledge that I was ‘maw’ing – being mum and dad at times, housework, back in in time for school finishing. Something in the fridge (and usually a back up), something in the freezer (and a back up).

I get the remarks that I do well at it, but I’ve always done that in terms of parenting as well as their personal care. I didn’t really opt out of it.

The hardest grind was over using tinder and bumble and that feeling that I couldn’t attract who I wanted, not even to the point of on-app conversations.

The feeling of being ‘a man that can’t get a women’s interest’.

Before I go further, I’m not saying I deserve someone or a situation or a particular person. It’s not looking at it as an entitlement or whatever.

More, it’s that loneliness and seeing others doing things that I’d maybe like to. That’s not necessarily ‘moving on’ but I guess wanting company, a chat, a motivation outside of family and disability and the day to day.

And, if I’m honest, that hope or need is maybe another element of the grind.

I’ve been questioning myself on unmet needs, and know that some of that is emotional and maybe also physical and that can be a gentle touch on a shoulder or a hug when it’s needed.

It’s easy to envy or be jealous of others, it’s easy to see what you don’t have.

Taking it together, maybe an element of resentment about my situation and certainly resentment in terms of feeling that I can’t change it, without that opportunity or spark of communicating with someone.

The grind also includes thinking through if maybe I’m too old. I’m certainly too grey and too bald in comparison to some of my peers.

It’s also the brokenness of shock, grief, feeling empty but having children to point in the right direction bearing in mind their loss too, as well as that of Lyndie’s parents. I can communicate how the kids are, but ultimately it’s me and not her and I understand the depth of their loss too.

So, all in all, ‘some baggage’ as they say on those apps. It’s not possible to experience the loss of the mother of your kids without that.

I’m not seeking a replacement, I’m not seeking anything more than the chance to have a conversation and see where it leads, but that first step, is the crucial one.

So, it takes me back to what I’m grinding, a sense of difference in being a male sole parent/caregiver, an acknowledgment that my time is limited in the right places and plentiful after bedtimes and in daytime.

Possibly amongst that, is frustration at myself for failing. A wish to be in a better place mentally and emotionally knowing that can help my resilience in dealing with what I have to do.

But, I can’t do anything about any of that until the summer holiday is finished. I have the odd carer respite hour or two at weekend to escape and that’s it.

So I can’t travel the extent of central Scotland for someone. I need to come up with someone be near, who I’m not travelling hours to.

Patience might be the key, but to keep sane day to day, to handle the ups and downs in terms of myself and as a parent/carer, I can’t have that grind or friction to want something more going on in my head and dragging me back from doing the things that need doing.

It’s counter intuitive in a way, but I have to deal with those thoughts like rejection, like separation, like losing her, like grieving for her and accept that it is what it is. Otherwise, those thoughts grind away and it’s me that’s being ground, me that’s suffering as much as it’s what I need, I can’t be looking and thinking and caught in a ‘would-nice-to-be’ or ‘maybe-someday’ as I’m needed in the here and now and not only by my kids but by others too.

Rationally accepting celibacy or it being in any relationship is a tough one. It’s almost reverse of human instinct, almost pushing against the tide.

But if I can’t make peace with that, if I can’t say ‘Que Sera Sera, whatever will be, will be’ then, I’ll always be grinding, I’ll always be envious, always be wishing it was me.

And that’s, the toughie.

No psychologist is going to say, accept being alone, accept not having intimacy, accept having unmet needs.

The whole sort of basis for figuring out how to fix our mental health and emotional needs is to accept or find a way to process the bad things, fear, pain, anger, grief and to find somewhere to place those thoughts of to be able to break them down and rebuild looking at the hierarchy of needs and taking step by step strategies towards tolerance of the issues, towards resilience and toward experiencing life in a meaningful way.

Now, yes, I’d like the be happier, I’d like to have the missing needs met, but without success at that first key point in dating, then I can’t follow the flow of conversation, meeting and so on.

Being time limited, opportunity limited, as a sole parent/carer means that mourning the inability or the lack of chance will only be damaging to me.

Hoping against hope will only be damaging for me and if there is a path for me to meet or chat to someone, it’s likely to be organic and around the circumstances of where I am and when I’m about and maybe some of that is just old fashioned happenstance where someone in real life isn’t finger scrolling away out of boredom and unreal expectation as they’d do on an app.

So I have to accept that another app or a more expensive subscription would only maybe be leading me to false hope.

I can’t do that over the school holidays anyways and I’m can’t do that immediate afterwards as all the dates of anniversaries in August and September.

So, that’s where I am, after a difficult and at times messy past few years.

It’s not giving in or giving up, it’s accepting that I have to focus on the day to day.

I need to do that and find the tools to cope or adapt. I need to find the daily routines with or without the kids and take meaning from doing that with them and for them.

So, grinding away at the issues won’t likely get me anywhere. Relying on sympathy to get me anywhere will sooner or later fade away.

So, time taken to write, time taken to think before that and it’s now time to deal with things. One bit at a time and keeping going.

Thank you sleeplessness.

A night last week where I slept really badly and it left me time for thinking.

Maybe not the right time or circumstances to think, but I had some things in mind, for now and after holiday with the kids.

Realised that being myself (widower/carer/autistic) makes the whole dating thing difficult and that past attempts in October and February really weren’t enjoyable. I had thought, oh, I could try in August, but, I’m thinking I leave it maybe longer.

It’s not to say I don’t need company or intimacy but maybe recognising that I’m not in the right place and that a new relationship wouldn’t be a fix-all.

I tend to add up period separated and period since Lyndie died and it’s probably closer to eight years maybe and perhaps, I could frame that differently or whatever but, it’s a long time since a day to day regular relationship.

I questioned if it’s celibacy, involuntary celibacy, but whether it’s definable, I don’t know. I’m certainly not a woman hating incel or someone just seeking sex, so the definitions and descriptors are a bit of a challenge.

I had to think whether there’s anything else and look at things like Aromantic and things like that. I don’t think I am uninterested or fit the definitions. Certainly an interesting read.

I had sort of thought that my next birthday, 50, was the point to sort of chuck it, accept that it’s probably just me and try and hold onto a bit of dignity.

I don’t know. There’s certainly people single and dating using the ‘seniors’ apps and sites and I don’t really know much about that. Maybe keeping an open mind is better than just dismissing it.

I think, the point that I’m trying to get to here, is that I know a relationship might help, might be a welcome distraction, but that I could risk completely leaning on that person and that’s unfair on them.

I need to pick up other threads in terms of my life, in order to balance it all out. If there’s anything to do after the holidays it’s maybe looking at gym/fitness/swimming for my own general health and my dodgy knee in particular.

I haven’t got anywhere in terms of meet up groups or activities or daytime sort of things to do that I could squeeze into a term-time day and I haven’t really been able up use respite time to go out etc.

So, I’ve a lot to think about that I wanted to do after I was less shocked and less griefy but, maybe two years behind on due to the pandemic.

Maybe the answer is to think some more, find things that’ll give me contact with people again and try to rebuild some confidence first, before taking a giant leap at disappointment with the dating apps.

It’s not a easy sell balding/grey, nearly 50, autistic widower with childcare responsibilities for disabled kids and restricted time off weekends/evenings.

So, it’s maybe better looking at fitness, looking at social things that might allow me to build on myself.

All in all, I don’t know. I’ll figure it out a bit more as I go.

Not at the game

I’m resting after doing bath time and bed time for the boys. I’m not at the game tonight as I’ve let my wife escape for a while.

Second day of school for my autistic pal, he’s 5, had thing been different he’d have started last year. I posted pics on Facebook of him ready to go to school. It’s nice to get the likes from
people, it’s not always possible to post a ‘normal’ photograph.

It’s a rarity for me to stick a picture of him on Facebook, I’m of the view it’s me that’s on social media not my kids.

I’m proud of him, I’m proud of him battling away every day with his condition, he’s a great wee guy. I wish I could cope as well as he does.

I’m in a down swing, toiling a bit I’m getting myself to get through days. I’m aware of how I am and know I’m not 100% right. I’m not closer to a diagnosis for autism for myself, it’s been a few months since my assessment appointment and I’m reluctant to contact my GP to try and chase things.

It’s a busy surgery and I’m not sure about bumbling up to the counter given how I am just now.

I think I might need a rest, physically my knee is sore. I’ve not been sleeping well either, which doesn’t help and I’ve been getting frustrated with things at work.

Getting signed off sick won’t help me right now. I need to keep going and keep trying. I know I’m down, I know I’m toiling, I know I can keep going.

(I know that’s wrong too)

The curse of my condition is how I am and how I can be. I can’t just communicate with people over what’s going on and I’m uncomfortable with certain people right now for different reasons.

I’m not enjoying conversations or looking at faces, I’m struggling with the random people on the train, I toiled with busy Glasgow during the games.

I’m coping online with twitter and I’m engaging on Facebook if and when I can.

I’m not closer to understanding myself, I’ve kept busy with reading on indyref, I’m toiling with tolerating television right now as I’m enjoying little other than factual or politics.

I guess I need that appointment letter through. I guess I need something like that. I’ve did okay through the summer, the weather has turned and I guess I’ve slid a bit.

Had a wardrobe malfunction, in that I’ve worn my arse out of my jeans, I’ve been overeating to cope and going a size up has woken me to that.

My son is doing so so well, I’d just like a diagnosis and some certainty.

Anyway, I’m not at the game. It’s not the top most thing in my mind.