The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto : Leaving My Weekend Cocoon

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Leaving My Weekend Cocoon

June 12, 2012

I am encased in my weekend cocoon. I feel safe here, sandwiched in between my Friday and Sundays. There really is no worry in my glass that surrounds me, other then what to do with the boys to keep them occupied. It’s the only time I feel normal, because after all, who wants the weekend to end?

I escape in the weekends because it’s when I don’t have to worry about bills, banks and responsibilities. I can shelf them in the back of my mind until my eyes open first thing Monday morning when I’m open for business. Until then, I do my best to ignore the fact that Monday is looming out there, and spend time in between the Sat and the Sun enjoying the day before they fade away.

The weekends are when I try to recover and heal from a never ending barrage of misfortune and stress from a week of uncertainty. When you lose someone as important to you as your children’s mother, your coping skills go beyond a normal three day bereavement afforded to you from work, family and friends. I try to rebuild my bridges and mend fences with life, but I just don’t have enough material to do it. I am relying on my old self, but he died months ago.

There are no more fun days, the days of the week just melt together as reminders that more time has gone by and another week has yet to begin. It weighs on me like a never ending conveyer belt, I anticipate the up coming weeks like the dark clouds brewing on the horizon. I count the hours until the weekend ends, as if I am counting the Mississippi’s between the lighting and the crash of thunder, to determine how much time I have until it will arrive. I’d rather hunker down inside my two day umbrella and ride out the storm spending my time with my boys. Pretty soon the full-time dad will have to come to a close. I have to return to work.

I guess the return to work could be good for me. The sand in the hourglass is draining from the top bulb and has almost settled in on the bottom. I don’t want to break the cocoon I’m in, but I know eventually I will have to cut my way out or slip through the exit hole. With the last few ounces of sand falling through, as I bust through my encasement, where I am suppose to flourish into a beautiful butterfly. It will represent my new beginning, as I spread my wings for the first time.

The problem is that I‘m not one for insects. I just like the idea of something sheltering itself in a cocoon, however in my case, I have no desire to break free. I don’t think there is anything wrong with being sheltered in your own world. Just as long as your in touch with reality. My reality is all to real, with no way of spinning my situation into a silk threaded shelter to ignore it. Doing so will only allow me to hide myself from my predators much like the pupae that houses itself within; for protection until it is ready to face the world. I know hiding isn’t the reality, I only conceal reality on my weekends. An encasement that I have been using to shelter my kids to heal their heartbreak, but ultimately it will be exposed.

I fill their weekends with as much fun as possible. When every fiber of my being just wants to rest, I somehow get up and get going. Most of it’s only for my boys, but a part of it is for me. I look in the mirror and see what my cocoon is transforming me into and I don’t like it. Thankfully, I can recognize that. I should do more for myself but there is so little time for me. My hair is fully grown out, when I use to shave it. My beard has a mind of its own, I haven’t trimmed it. My muscle mass is slowly deteriorating, I haven’t been to the gym. My eyes are baggy, I haven’t gotten any sleep. The transformation in this cocoon isn’t turning me into a beautiful insect. It’s keeping me that ugly bug that spun it to begin with.

Eventually, nature will take it’s course and will unwillingly push me out. Whether it is by acceptance or by the banks hands, as we are caught in the housing mess. I’m searching deep within myself to turn into the butterfly that is meant to be seen and turn this thing around. To get myself together, I am trying to accept the weeks and not just the weekends. But it is hard to look beyond tomorrow, when you are told not to look past today. And it’s even harder to leave our home where I find safety in this place. This is my cocoon. It protects me as I hide inside of it.
　

Our home is our truss, safety from the rest of the world. We can be ourselves here. It is truly our castle. I’m the king of course, along with the two prince. If we decide to venture out , our “horse and carriage” just outside the door awaits and I take my boys out and far away from here. But the security of home, is where I feel most comfortable, where I can watch my boys play uninhibited. It is only when the confines of home close in on us do we go out. But my energy is almost gone and keeping up with them is getting harder and harder. So it seems safer here.

This is our habitat much like nature is for the butterfly, it feels normal for me, us. Everything is exactly the same, since we first moved to this place. It gives me a false sense that Mimie, my wife, is still here, physically. Nothing has changed. I sit in my chair and look at each individual room and think of the memories gone by, good and bad. I want to hide in here for good, but that isn’t an option, it wouldn’t be fair to my guys.

I have to search myself as I hibernate in our cocoon. Look deep within and become what I was meant to be now that she is gone. I have to look adversity in the eyes and not wait for nature to take its course and force me out, but to fight my way out. To achieve greatness, so that my sons know that it is not okay to give up, that we all face hardships in life, but it is how we react to it that will define us. To shatter this damn cocoon and not be afraid to leave beyond the shelter of the weekends. We are meant for better things in life. You just need the will and the desire to find it and want it. I won’t quit on myself. I just have to find my desire again. I know there is passion in me somewhere, we all have it. If I don’t, it’s just wasted talent.

I need to bypass the cocoon and figure out how to make my fun days the Monday’s and leave my weekends behind.

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