My life online is often complex and filled with preaching advice that I don’t take. More often than not, that involves my use of an app or blogging platform. If you’re new around here I go backwards and forwards in just about everything and most the of words coming further down the page I have said before but still don’t really believe. My blogging habits suck.
For more than a decade, I have wanted to be a writer.
Over the last few weeks, I have come to realise how much time that I spend waiting for people. Islam sat in my car, just chilling and waiting for something to finish.
This is usually my view. Waiting for my son to finish school and walk to meet me. I’m not cool enough to be able to actually go to his school any more, so I have to sit in the car and wait.
Day two of being positive, and it has been a lonely one. In other circumstances my day might have been considered perfect, filled with crap TV, books and chilling out. I don’t feel ill per se (bar a headache and a bit of a cough) but I am completely drained of energy.
Despite my family checking on me and making sure I am OK, it’s not the same as hanging out together.
On Wednesday afternoon, I started to feel a bit under the weather. Nothing major, just a bit of a sore throat and lacking energy, but I’d already been for a run that morning, followed by loads of meetings, so I figured I just needed some rest. After taking some tablets, I headed to bed for one of the worst night of sleep I have ever had, and that’s where the fun began.
For what seems like forever, I have been trying to cut down my usage of Twitter. Going around and around in circles with tactics to reduce the time spent scrolling and place it somewhere else. I know the service is bad for me, for issues that are my own, not the services, but after years of usage I just can’t stay away.
It drags me down rabbit holes that I use to avoid doing other things, and ultimately make myself feel worse about the world and affecting my mental health.
Today is one of the scary times as a parent, the first day at big school for my son. He’s 11, so he’s off to secondary school, and at this point in life it’s a hug shift to go through. Thankfully he’s coping with it really well, and despite some nerves he’s really looking forward to new experiences.
On our way to school, he was asking me about my first day at school, and to be honest, I don’t even remember it.
At the same point each year, my wife and I get into the same discussion. It’s a few weeks until my birthday, and she wants to buy me presents. So, we have the same circular conversation that I don’t want nor need anything, and she tries all sorts of tactics to get me to give in.
My wife shares a viewpoint with most of the world, in that the volume of stuff or expenditure is equal to the amount you care about someone.
I know at some point in my life I am going to have to let you go. I pray that is not for a very long time. There were years before you arrived, but I don’t remember them clearly. When you were born, it was as if I were born again and have lived another, better life with you. I know you were given to me to teach me about the world, and I promised to show you it.
When typing out my thoughts and going well past a short tweet, I thought for longer than I should have about the title of this post. I like to give them a snappy title that sums everything up. The most logical word to use for this would be engagement, but like productivity, that word is ruined now.
It shouldn’t be. It is the reason I use social media and the driving motivation to stick around on Twitter when logically I should leave it behind.
Being the parent of a disabled child, I’m well aware that I need to curb my enthusiasm towards things. But today I am so proud of Lucie.
Not because she did anything special, or achieved anything anywhere near the markers that “normal” kids set down. But myself, my wife and son sat at a pub and had an enjoyable few hours. Not only did Lucie really enjoy the music being played.