Yesterday I had a moment of despair, feeling I have touched the bottom of this period. Then I reflected a bit, "my bottom is not so deep anymore, it won't take me long to surface again" I thought. The reason for feeling this was my bottom was the following:

  • I went with V. to the fertility clinic in the morning. I hadn't told her I've had a relapse with weed.
  • I hadn't asked for permission at work, I just sent a Slack message saying something had come up and I wouldn't be able to make it to work today.
  • When the doctor came back after the egg extraction and told us no viable eggs had been collected, I felt relief.
  • V. appreciates care on days like this. We usually spend the entire day together. I excused myself early saying I needed to work, but I went back home, smoked weed, jerked off to porn, and then had a nap.

I felt I had let down everybody around me, and myself too. I'd say the main reason why my writing has been spotty is because I don't want it to read every day "Ooops I did it again", this dynamic is not good for my mental health, admitting shame and yet not being able to do anything about it.

Additionally, I sense my disposition towards having a baby with V. is shifting, mainly because I feel I'm not ready to be a father. I feel as if I'm counting on my values to shift if we have a baby together, but I'm also worried that doesn't happen and I just become an absent father.

At the same time I've reflected on this a lot... What is the worst that could happen? that V. has to raise a child by herself while I go on being Peter Pan? That's better than V. not having a child and me carrying on with my Peter Pan program. I know the very worst is to be a harmful presence for your child, an absent father is better than a abusive father, but here I trust myself in not being a harmful presence for a child. I'll distance myself rather than harming anyone, in any kind of personal relationship.

The way in which I have come to terms with this ambiguity (of wanting and not-wanting) is relating to a previous experience with my dog Nina. My sister gave her to me despite me being unwilling to take her. But soon I grew attached, and the inner experience was remarkable: "how blind I was thinking I didn't want to have anything to do with this dog, this is not an exchange in which there was loss/benefit, but mutual love which transcends transaction". My main worries before adopting Nina was that I would ignore her as much as I could, only feeding her and walking her as was necessary, feeling it as a chore. I chuckle writing this: it was a pleasure to feed Nina her favorite foods and to walk her around the neighborhood.

The fertility doctor told us our chances were low, given our age. I will accept my ambiguity, with faith that if it happens—I will be a different person when I'm on the other side.