I have this daily reoccurring feeling that bothers me a lot and makes me ashamed. I cannot, or should I say, I don’t have the strength to fight it. I will try my best to describe this issue of mine.
When I am home alone, I miss the presence of my family, their laughter, quarrels, the distant sound of their music playing or the TV. It makes me feel lonely.
When they’re home, they spend most of their time upstairs where the family room and the bedrooms are located. My office, where I spend ninety percent of my time, is downstairs.
For me, the ideal set up is to have them all home but separate from me. When they are upstairs doing whatever they are doing and me alone downstairs, is the ideal situation. The house feels that it has a soul, it warms me up my inside, and I don’t feel alone and feel happy.
My problem is that I don’t know how to interact, to be positive and not ruin their days by a comment out of line or toxic; also I have no patience for anything or anybody.
What we do together is to watch a family movie and the Graham Norton Show.
The only constant in our family is our meals together, where we have sometimes heated debates and quality time. We do argue as well as any regular family would.
When I am with them upstairs, I quickly feel overwhelmed and restless. The movements, talks, and voices resonate in my head rapidly put me out of commission. I do not blame them at all. They are doing nothing unusual. The problem is me not them.
It’s a horrible and contradictory feeling to have. On the one hand, I can’t stand it when they are not home, and on the other, when they are present, I don’t know how to deal with them. This brings lots of tension within the family.
Only recently I am trying to help one of my boys with math and French homework, but I think I confuse him more than I help. This lack of patience angers me a lot as I should be able to deal with it.
They don’t understand my lack of involvement with the family activities. I cannot blame them as I don’t know why I am this way.
It seems like I do not care and that they have no importance but to me. It is entirely the opposite. If it hadn’t been for my family, I would probably be dead by now. They are my reason to exist, and yet I cannot seem to be able to handle them. I know that this feeling is pushing them further away from me every day. I understand, and yet I can’t act otherwise. I feel so ashamed for not being the father figure and husband that I should be. I do fear that one day the will leave. It is eating me up inside, destroying my family and myself.
I am in pain and I am ashamed
Peace and serenity