I feel it’s about time I write a post about my family. I was reminded the other day by a friend and blogger (a more experienced one than I) that this blog need not be solely about me and my monkey. Monkey? Yeah, if you remember I also vowed in an earlier post to find another word for depression. So, inspired by a certain former member of a boy-band in his solo work, I’ve gone with monkey for now. Anyway, this friend said that I’m not defined by my monkey and she reminded me that there are so many other aspects to both me and this blog – or at least there could be. She’s right of course – and I thank her for that. While the blogger in me wanted my monkey to be the key theme behind what might otherwise turn out to be another rambling journal of someone’s life, I do have the freedom to be a little more creative and broaden it out to other related aspects of my life. It was always my intention to cover other topics – as in fact I mention in my ‘About me‘ bit and of course my ‘review’ of the film Argo is a perfect example. But that could seem rather disjointed and so I’m going to be a little subtler in covering other topics – at least for now. Hence this post. Think of it as a segue to other things.
So. My family.
I have two lovely, amazing, funny, clever, inquisitive, brilliant daughters. One is five and the other is one and a half. They would be all those things to me (and more) even if I didn’t have my monkey but because I do, they’re all those things multiplied by x. And I say that because I feel like my monkey intensifies my thoughts and feelings about them. It also intensifies the challenging aspects of parenting as well but that’s not the point of this post.
My children and my wonderful wife are what get me through the difficult times. My wife, is able to offer support in the full knowledge of my illness. Clearly my daughters don’t have this understanding (thank goodness) but they help in so many ways. They help to ground me – in a really important and necessary way. They focus me and they distract me from myself. They help me to see what’s important. They keep me busy. They give me structure. They also free me. They make me realise I have an endless supply of love to give them – if not myself. They make me cry (in a good way). Ultimately they, together with my wife, ensure I will always have a very good reason for being.
I’m going to leave it there, for now. I wanted in this post to share something positive – that I am immensely thankful for my family. It’s not that I couldn’t or wouldn’t have felt this way if I didn’t have depression, but it does, in more lucid periods, take that feeling of thankfulness to the nth degree.
Oh, and as to the title of this post? I have two cool cats as well as my monkey.
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