Dunno…

Is it the pain? Waking me up at 3 am. Stopping me from doing. Always there in my body for almost 20 years now, stopping me when I try to have a life? Stopping me from enjoying the things I love?

Is it my emotions? Broken as a child, exploited so many times ever since. Not having something sometimes makes you highly exploitable in your search for it.

Is it because I have been told so, countless amount of times. As I was examined by doctors and scientist, by my peers when they called me weird, different, a freak, by my parents, by my teachers, by my so called loved ones?

Is it the dysfunctions when I enter bouts of hyperfocus to avoid all of the above from entering my mind, desperate in finding something meaningful to connect with outside being a dad, a mission, a team, a tribe. The dysfunction that makes me forget about time while my tiny world becomes a mess… a mess I need to fix in a rush every two weeks just before my son comes back, just before I reattach to reality.

Is it my mind? Is it all these details that I see, that my brain obsessively tries to patch together to give them meaning, racing connecting present to past in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the future, to gain control where there is none.

Is it just an observation when I look at the current shape of my professional, social and familial lives?

Dunno.

While I write all this I discharge. I become a mess. But when I’ll wake up again in a few hours, the mask will be on, I will be Dad. My son will dream, sing, play, learn, smile… That’s my biggest win.