Feeling Better and Putting Off Birth & Death

I realized, over the last couple of weeks or so, I’ve been thinking more about my hypothetical fatherhood than my hypothetical funeral. That’s nice. That’s an improvement. I’ve planned my funeral so many times in my head. Every time I’ve been at a funeral or every time I’ve dealt with suicidal thoughts, I think about how I’d like mine to be. I always say I want it to be much more celebration than mourning. I want people telling stories and jokes and laughing. I want music. I want food there. I want a buffet. Chicken wings, mac & cheese, finger sandwiches, salads. It’d be great if there was an open bar. Are there ever funerals with an open bar? Save some money, get me the cheapest coffin and use the saving to provide free alcohol. It’s a party after all.

One thing I have to stop doing when I imagine my hypothetical funeral is imagining my parents there. I don’t know why I do it. Maybe it’s the years of suicidal thoughts or maybe it’s the inability to cope with the fact that my parents will die someday. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I don’t know.

But, yeah. Lately, I’ve been imagining myself as a dad and not totally freaking out for a change. All of a sudden, I kind of want a little person to mold, to care for, to try out all the parenting techniques I think will work but have never had the opportunity to try. I think that’s one of the reasons I’m so uncomfortable around other people’s kids. They’re pre-made. Pre-loaded with their parents’ DNA and their parents’ teachings and I don’t know how to deal with that. I barely understand how to be around humans, let alone these tiny almost-humans.

I’m still afraid of having a newborn. Newborns aren’t done. They shouldn’t be out in the world yet. Just these squishy, pink, crying, pooping flesh balls that you have to keep alive. They can’t balance their own heads! The weight of their heads could just snap their little necks! That’s a major design flaw. I can’t handle that. I don’t want that kind of responsibility. Just keep this post-fetus alive and eventually they’ll be a person. No thank you. Maybe someday. Not now.

Someday, but not now. Totally hypothetical. I don’t want a kid now. I don’t know how anybody my age deals with a child. I don’t know how anybody YOUNGER than me deals with a child. They’re children themselves! That’s not meant to be disparaging in any way. I just know me. I feel like a useless kidult right now. How can there be adults younger than me? That’s shouldn’t be legal.

I’m now older than my parents were when they had me. By the time I was ten, they despised each other. I had strained relationships with both of them throughout my teens, between their problems and my own undiagnosed depression and anxiety. My parents never saw it as depression or anxiety. They thought I was lazy. They thought I was difficult. Just a house of yelling and arguments and a messy divorce. Why would I be so hesitant to get married? Why would I be so hesitant to have a kid?

I’ve just started being able to take care of myself. I still don’t know who I am. I still don’t know where I’m going. I’m still unstable. I’m hoping I’m headed in a good direction. I just need to get myself together. I can’t have a kid now. My future kid doesn’t deserve me as a dad. At least not this version of me. I want to be able to devote time and energy to my kid. I want to be at a point in my life where I’m more comfortable. I don’t want to feel like having a kid stopped me from achieving my dreams. Too many parents did that. I’m not convinced my father didn’t do that. Besides, I’m doing my kid a favor. He never asked to be born, so I’m not going to have him. That’s called being a good dad. He’ll thank me someday.

I guess what I’m saying is that the medication is working and I’m glad I feel present. I’m glad I feel here. I’m glad I finally feel capable of existing. That’s nice. And for the first time in many, many years, I see a future for me. That’s big. I’d just like to leave the future in the future for now.