Time for what? Time to get back into this. Some time ago I put a message up on the blog and it said:
azh-online is closed
Life keeps on happening to me. Until I can work out why, this journal will remain closed.
It’s time to tear down that message and start blogging again. A lot has happened in the last few months, or weeks, or however long it has been, since I stopped writing here. A lot has happened, a lot has been said and I have probably changed in many, many small and pretty unnoticeable ways.
As it happens, I’m sat here at 23:22 on a Thursday evening whilst my woman and my Son lie asleep in the room next door and I’m drinking. Nothing too heavy but I’ve had a few cans of beer to help me relax – and I wonder now if drinking in order to relax makes it more than just drinking and more of a need? Like an addiction? Like alcoholism? I don’t think so, I just think that sometimes we all need a little comfort and I got mine today in a few drinks.
Tom played bloody hell this evening and I – ashamedly – lost my rag. I mean, I seriously lost it. I swore at him and felt sick with guilt because, he doesn’t understand me or understand what is going on, and he can’t say to me, ‘daddy, my leg hurts’ or ‘daddy, I’m tired’. Jenny took him for his jabs today. He got stabbed in the thigh and the inevitable result of the jabs is that he’s grouchy. But then I’ve been at work all fucking day doing the same old job that is utterly shit upon shit and I’m grouchy too. Two guys, who don’t speak the same language as each other, both grouchy fuckers, what do ya expect? So I lost it. I didn’t do anything, but I wanted so much for him to shut the fuck up. I willed him to shut it NOW!! Please, for the love of all that is good and pure in the world, clam up your goddamn cakehole sunshine and gimme a fucking break.
But of course the boy doesn’t understand and he can sense my frustration and he feels worse for that and the more I get wound up the more he cries and the more he cries the more I get wound up and Jenny is out and it’s just the two of us and I don’t know what to do with him! And me, I’m tired to so maybe he’s tired but he won’t sleep and he’s not hungry and he’s clean and dry and – shit man, nobody told me being a Dad was as hard as this. Nobody told me there would be times when I was just lost and at the mercy of time. That no matter what I did I could not impact the way my boy was feeling, I just had to let him get it out of his system.
Do you know just how fucking feeble that made me feel? Reduced to uselessness by a three month old.
Not. Fucking. Good.
So now I am sat here drinking the last dregs of my can and thinking I really need to be going to bed rather that writing this. I mean, the blog won’t be up and running for a another day or so because I’m currently working on getting the forums, Lurking Mastermind, moved over to a new host. The blog will follow, maybe this weekend, maybe next week, but then I don’t want to miss this opportunity to tell you/me how I feel right now. Sure I could come back to this in the morning or whilst (and this is going to be a feature, no doubt) I am at work and bored to distraction, but then I would lose how I feel now or lose what I want to say now.
Fuck it, who am I kidding? I’m tired and I want to go to bed. Tom will no doubt wake up tonight at some point and I have to be up at seven for work so I better turn in.
So yeah, it’s me, I’m back, welcome to AzH-online, the blog of a slightly unhinged guy from England. I’m 30, I’m a Father and I’m not a terribly nice bloke. Welcome to my little world.