Where am I heading?

Basically, especially looking from an onlooker's perspective at my life, things aren't going on wrong.

Health-wise, with the exception of the lumbar spine which I will have be careful with until the end of my days, with depression kept at bay, there is nothing more to worry. Should a mishap strike me, money is put aside to ensure superior medical care.

Work-wise, eight months into the path a few years ago I would shun, not only do I not regret it, but apparently I get ahead. My workmates, especially my team and my boss are glad they work with me. At times it is tough, at times I am sick of it, yet those moments don't change my overall positive perception.

My parents are getting older, with mum now 76, dad just turned 77. They carry on, yet their physical and mental fitness has been on decline over the last years. I face what almost everybody faces, maybe except for being totally alone with it. They are my only family, I have no bonds with other relatives and frankly speaking I don't feel like reviving them. Such is the reason why I fear their death.

My social life does exist, I can't complain about intensity of my social interactions (three times out in town over the last week), yet it is not as abundant as of single women who can boast of more robust social capital, built mostly on relationships with fellow females.

With respect to discontinued involvement in Szlachetna Paczka, my decision taken during the recent edition is upheld. I feel burnt out, too much has gone wrong and it would be too hard to make up for it. Moreover, with current work-related duties, the Paczka would be too time-consuming. My lookout for an alternative volunteering has not yet commenced. Maybe I'm putting it back to cool down.

Am I one of those, whose self-fulfilment hinges upon raising a family, primarily passing my genes to the next generation, or, as the malicious one would put into in words – leaving the offspring to this lousy, overcrowded planet?

Are my efforts to pursue the above doomed to fail? Dating-wise, I can't gripe about lack of interest from women (a problem several males of my age have) on dating apps (which is a far broader universe than offline world). Why doesn't it then develop into a relationship? After over a year I make out two repeatable scenarios: either a woman asks more questions to find out if I live up to her expectations and at that stage her letdown comes up (beneficial for everyone, wasted time spared) or we meet in person, often want to meet again or even do so, but it turns out she has no room in her life (in which she's tremendously busy) to fit getting to know a man better. Those women will most likely end up as happy singles.

Writing about interest, unpaid versions of popular dating apps show you some details of persons who swiped you right, including the age. From there I know more than two-third of women interested in me are aged 38 or more. Women in early 30s seeking a male a few years older are in minority. With such age profile of potential life companions, odds to become a father dwindle.

This might be the moment to ask myself a question whether it makes sense to pair up, but not have children. Such relationship would always contain the missing piece, an unsatisfied desire with a potential to blow up a relationship, even if both partners want offspring, but for reasons beyond their control can't have it.

I'm most fed up with going through the same scheme with every match, an experience of fatigue most dating app users are familiar with. The natural defence mechanism is taking breaks, to start over after a while. The in-person meetings are usually a nicely spent time, though getting me nowhere. They are just a form of temporal escape from a mundane reality.

In these lousy times like never before people seek outbursts of dopamine brought by travels, doing sports, fine dining, profligate consumption, seeking attention in social media, less frequently casual sex (I suspect some women have so many other sources of dopamine that they no longer need it). Travels and doing sport bring me joy, some other dopamine triggers don't work with me. Taking delight in pleasurable activities does give relief from the void, partly in the same way as intoxication gives short-term relief from the sorrow of being alive. I wish I can rise above it

Raising children and keeping them company, as they reach next stages of their lives moves a parent's life ahead. You wait for their first words, first day in nursery school, then next stages of education, doing things together, their first boyfriend or girlfriend, first job, then grandchildren. The very latter one becomes an unfulfilled dream of many contemporary folks in their 60s or 70s. Without offspring, life shapes like a circle. You may wait for a next trip to another continent or for another shot of dopamine, for the decease of your parents, you may live your siblings' children's life. Alternatively, you may fall in a self-development trap at which I look with disdain.

Upon talking to friends, then to AI (who does not ask philosophical questions to technology?) I have reached a conclusion I long for a sense of belonging, most easily found in romantic relationships and difficult to feel in a world spoilt by staring at smartphone screens.

Quite recently I got familiar with a concept devised by Paul Gilbert who posits humans exist within three circles: threat, drive and soothing. A proper balance between the three is critical for one's well-being. I swing between the two former, while in the latter circle I can find myself for short moments only, too short to restore a piece of mind, truly relax and calm down.

If my Guardian angel was to have their say about the above, what would they say?

Premonitions

I consider myself a down-to-earth and rational guy. My long-term decisions are rather well-though-out, grounded in analysis and stand to some reasons, while short-term choice happen to be made on the spur of the moment. I believe to some extent in fate, albeit find a rational explanation for twist.

May the called off trip to the USA serve as an example. My problems with spine had lasted for years, I strained it in warm months in the run-up to the cancelled holidays, so a logical chain of events leading up to my injury could be lined up. But when I turn off my brain, my heart tells me the fate has violently prevented me from popping the question. Since that serious health crisis the relationship has gone downhill, especially since it is easier to recognise how lousy it is when things go wrong.

At the turn of year I was down with flu. Being preoccupied with work and charity in the last quarter of the year explains why my immune system was weakened and why the course of the illness was quite severe. On those short, cold days spent mostly in bed I had a recurring premonition 2026 would bring a really tragic life-changing, yet not precisely defined event. I could imagine decease of one of my parents, a serious health crisis, a serious damage to my property or financial assets or something I would be recovering from for months. The only such event so far were the aforementioned problems with spine, with full recovery lasting around a year.

The premonition could have been logically caused by protracted stress experienced in 2025: struggling with my own health, my parents’ health, break-up and uphill dating, burn-out in Szlachetna Paczka, burn-out at work and a long fight to get promoted. None of those events is particularly brutal, but if they pile up and one has little room to regenerate, they can turn one’s hair more grey.

So far, the fears have not materialised. The worst that has happened to me was having my wrist mangled by the aggressive dog, but the recovery goes well, despite my thumb being numb several times a day.

Future-wise, I have grown obsessed with attempting to stay physically and mentally fit until old age, which I believe is overall positive. Since the beginning of Lent I have given up on sweets and salty snacks altogether and don’t miss it. After the accursed intoxication, I have given up alcohol for hell knows how long. Restriction for physical strain after being bite by the dog have prevented me from exercising daily and more intensive effort, but at least I walked for an hour each day.

The shape of my future fills me with some dread. Sociologists predict by 2030 45% of population under 40 would be single (quotation source needed, I read it, but can’t trace it back). With a growing self-focus finding a female life companion willing to raise a family might be difficult, not because I am not attractive enough and women would prefer more handsome or resourceful men, but because they will need no man at all. What humans want from life has changed. At some moments I suppose humanity is bound to extinct and it makes to point to preserve it from facing its despicable fate.

Forward-looking optimism?

Well, not actually. I'm moving ahead, as this is a part of my nature. I soldier on, against all odds and numerous headwinds I seem to be facing.

The world we are living in does not fill with hope. The biggest empire of the old world is ruled by a lunatic. His doubtful crackdown on lousy regimes does not fill one with compassion for dictators in Venezuela or Iran, but will bring little improvement for inhabitants of those countries. The orange bastard has still too much patience for the tsar. Despite allegedly good relationships with the tsar, the US ruler has not convinced him to agree on a ceasefire under conditions reflecting the pre-invasion order. The most dreadful is the vision of the orange dumbhead warranting to conquer Greenland, triggering an immediate NATO disintegration, a scenario desired most by Kremlin. Reassuringly, the system of checks and balances in the USA works well and hence the orange guy will be effectively held back.

Russia keeps bombarding Ukraine and the vision of peace is distant. I feel awfully sorry for the Ukrainian people (especially now, as they are coping with harsh frost below –20C), but on the other hand I realise while waging a war, Russia gets weaker, while a period of peace would let the tsar's country set itself up for a war against Western Europe.

In Poland I shun the online world, as my jaw drops open at the crass stupidity of those who bloat there the most. AI has made it even worse and the least clever part of society put credence in all deepfake content they come across. The two right-wing anti-EU parties have a total support of roughly 25% in the current polls, while the democratic coalition, standing for values of the civilised world, enjoys a total support above 40%. Not a bad outcome, given how it was envisaged to fall apart in the wake of the lost presidential election and in the world drifting right.

Family-wise, my parents are getting older, a phenomenon inevitable, expected and irreversible. Their health is around the average for their age, they still basically get on with daily life on their own, mostly thanks to my father's stamina (albeit his underlying diseases are a ticking bomb). Observing their mental aging gets me down most. They no longer have a can-do attitude and perceive matters which just have to be handled as problems. Watching them sliding slowly towards senility fills me with more pessimism than coming to terms with them being less physically fit and the realisation the moments they pass away are not in a distant future.

Work-wise, I think I'm getting ahead in the new role, but ask myself what it is for. If I don't raise a family and spending money does not give me particular joy, what is the point in earning more money? I will accumulate savings, hoping one day they will come in handy, but with little conviction there is a justification for chasing higher wages.

Health-wise I realise I have reached the age range when my conduct (nutrition, physical exercise, lifestyle, hours of doing sport per week) determines my health when I grow older. So far the spine is the only long-lasting predicament and I need to take preventive steps to keep it in reasonably condition, but I keep in mind what my orthopaedist once told me, namely it is not a questions whether my ailment recurs, but when and how badly it hits me.

My involvement in charity has worn me down. If downsides prevail over upsides, one needs to think over whether, regardless of benefits for the disadvantaged, such energy drain makes sense. As of now, I have not resolved whether to carry on with the Paczka next year, but with each next day I tilt towards giving up on it.

Relationship-wise, my attitude of being deprived of hope and belief that regardless of my efforts, mating attempts will get me nowhere, is disturbing. I may try to elaborate on this in some time, but my observations of single women in their 30s approach to romantic relationships can be summarised with one question reflecting their mindsets: “why do I need a man at all?” Full stop. Maybe with time and new chapter in online dating opened my I will change my mind. Whatever the fate brings, right-on is the approach to do my bit, as only interesting people are (sexually) attractive.

2026 will be a year of looking for a meaning in life. At some stage, humans choose among different ways of drowning out the feeling of emptiness. Until recently the most popular one was raising a family which consumed money and time, took away a lot of free time and set long-term milestones humans aimed at. With lifestyle shift in place, pursuit of hobbies, travelling, doing sports, indulging in pleasures and many other ways of increasing one’s dopamine levels have grown in popularity, but they still have a common denominator – they let forget about the overwhelming existential hollow.

Is my mindset depicted above as sign of relapsing depression? I hazard a guess it does not qualify as a mental disorder. It is a natural reaction to a chain of mostly bitter experiences which have come down on me in recent months. As an intelligent human being, I emotionally respond to them. My drive and self-esteem are in order and I retain the ability to cherish joyful moments, despite being overcome by long-term dejection. No need to take medications to get to grips with it. Time will either heal it or bring what I need to reconcile with I have no impact on.

Roll on spring! Warmth and longer days will do their bit in lifting me up.

Half-year health musings

Exactly six months have elapsed since the biggest health crisis in my lifetime. I am now far from despair of being immobilised, yet still not being truly fit, which might never be the case, given irreversible nature of spine devastation.

I have recently learnt a new adage: healthy people have several quandaries, while ailing people have only one quandary. It brilliantly illustrates how problems with health might turn lives upside down.

A new chapter of my tribulations opened up in January. In early phase I put it down to break-up-related stress, yet then a penny dropped and I went to have an MRI done and consult my doctor, as some symptoms, such as atypical pain during and after lying on my back (a position which ought to give relief to spine) seemed upsetting. Currently I am in process of being diagnosed if I am in an early phase of ankylosing spondylitis (in simple words, a protracted inflammation of spine joints). I believe the likelihood of being affected by this disease is below 50%, yet if indeed it gripped me, a therapy to prevent its development will be put in place swiftly.

I try to remain optimistic, despite having it uphill in recent months. I revert to gratitude for what is still within my reach and for financial resources coming in useful and shy away from negativity and focusing on what has been taken away from me. Back single I should cycle, run, take up new things and generally live it up. Instead, I am redefining myself without dopamine produced during physical exercise.

The new wave of pain, less acute, yet disturbing coincides with reading this international bestseller. In his lengthy book, the author points out long-lasting stress or traumas contribute to most autoimmunological diseases, including cancer. Suppressed emotions remain in a body, accumulate and after a tipping point is reach, the body begins to destroy itself. The book contains stories of people who neglected themselves to take care of others and likely paid a price of ruined health. Despite approaching it with a bit of scepticism, I acknowledge scientifically the theory holds water and has provoked me to revise if my benevolence to the world is not excessive.

The memories of being bed-ridden in September 2024 haunt me frequently these days. I consider myself to be a rational man, however wonder if the timing of my ailment was not haphazard. Maybe thus the fate has prevented me from popping a question and brought forward the inevitable break-up of the dead-end relationship? Maybe the stiffness in my lumbar spine, hips and several other parts of my body is a wake-up call to take care of myself?

The dust has settled

Nearly four weeks past the break-up… Tenants of my girlfriend found a new dwelling easily, so she could move to her own flat last weekend. This weekend with some help of a friend of mine, who owns a lorry, we are finalising the moving. During three weeks under one roof, quality of our friendly relationship was pathologically good. All tensions have eased, but knowing the mechanics of decreasing expectations and eased pressure, we were not misled and both remain confident our romantic relationship was a dead-end street.

Actually we could have carried on as flatmates, however this would be tremendously insalubrious, as there were plenty of reasons to terminate that relationship and actual decoupling is a vital element of the break-up.

As it happens in such situations, I swing between conflicting feelings, from deep relief to hollowness. As my ex-girlfriend’s belongings were packed into boxes, the flat, chests of drawers, bookcases, wardrobe closets, they have all become underwhelmingly empty. It will take some time and I will take my time to come to terms with it.

In such circumstances most people get involved in doing things to drown out their emotions. New hobbies, taking up doing new sports, workaholism, compulsive shopping, rushing into dating, travels, addictions, catching up or starting out with stuff out of reach when they were in a relationship. It takes some courage to confront with one’s emotions, work them through and emerge wiser as you get past them.

Theoretically, I am single, practically I am still taken, since emotionally I am not ready for a new relationship and get on with myself reasonably well. The coming weeks or months, will be a time of focusing on myself, getting to know myself better, realising what my needs are. I have neglected myself in that relationship a bit, so before I’m back on the market, I need to restore the internal balance.

As good as it gets

While writing about the two previous romantic relationships, I kept track of ups and down we had had. When it comes to the ongoing one, in place since July 2022, no coverage of crises can be found here. I realised it recently, but cannot come up with the idea, why the numerous tribulations along the way have not been committed to the blog. I believe my friends have absorbed my squirts of emotions and what was talked over did not have to be put in writing to be gotten over.

One post inspired by a quarrel with my girlfriend was the one on the tendency to put things back. Today I detest procrastination even more after nearly a year of living under one roof.

Are we a perfect match? From scratch I could have doubts if we hit it off despite stark dissimilarities which at the beginning seemed unsurmountable, but eventually I decided to give it a try, making allowances for my negative perception, potentially skewed by a depression episode ongoing then.

We had our first crises still in 2022, including the most serious one in late November 2022. The notion was we were worlds apart. Then we began negotiations - a lawyer and a banker sat for nearly ten hours and brought their worlds together for a while. During those long conversations we have set some rules, yet divergences remain outstanding including some serious ones.

1. Children - I would prefer to have two, she at first considered remaining childless as a primary option, then persuaded herself to become a mother, yet to an only child. I realise she will be pregnant for nine months and by dint of pure biology she will be an infant's primary caretaker, therefore now the consensus is to have one child and then decide if we want a second one. I recently read the major cause of poor demographics are not childless people, but those sticking to one child only. How true...

2. Attitude towards money - I am rather thrifty, think twice before spending money and easily sacrifice current consumption to save for durable goods. With my minimalism I also make do without stuff which brings other people joy. She does not throw money about, has substantial savings, has never had debts other than already repaid mortgage, but on the other hand, she spends money with far bigger ease than me and at times holds it against me and accuses me of tight-fistedness.

3. Priorities in life - for me family, duties, helping others, work, spending time outdoors. For her - carefree life, work, sport, then family, but with a reservation she needs time for herself.

4. The daily life - for me business before pleasure. Duties need to be handled without further ado, once they get done, I can relax. I appreciate doing things on my own, like order and cleanliness. She fosters time to rest, while duties can wait and if possible, should be pushed aside.

Given the above there is a gap between us, yet there are couples who carry on broadly happily despite such differences. With similarities life is easier, with dissimilarities, there is room for complementing each other.

Should we split up? At such age (I'm turning 37 in December) it is not easy to find a reasonable woman, therefore the decision is between living a lonely, peaceful life and ups and downs of raising a family, any family. As I look around I see many people who have compromised and spend lives with companions anything but ideal. On the other hand, the major cause of divorces in Poland is not infidelity, nor violence, nor addictions, but a "mismatch of characters", a wide term used when couples are sick and tired of unsuccessful attempts to get on with each other.

I often wake up to ask myself whether I am living my life, whether I have not allowed by girlfriend to shape my life beyond the boundaries of my comfort and reasonable concessions inevitable in a relationship. I have fully embraced looking after a dog, which was a brand new experience to me. But her attempts to teach me to like lavishness or fancy eating have gone in vain. On Thursday I read a joke. What combo of factors is a frequent story behind a divorce? He did not change the way she wanted, but she has changed not the way he wanted. So true...

As we had a good streak during the summer, I planned to buy a diamond ring and pop the question during the trip to the USA. For health-related reasons none of the above plans has been followed out. With current ups and downs and uncertainty regarding future I have put those plans on hold. But back in August I told my friends at such age and after such relationship duration a man is faced with take-it-or-leave it dilemma.

On Monday I had a frank conversation with my parents. I broke the rule relationship tribulations should not be talked over with relatives. They have not had many opportunities to look at us, but turned out to be surprisingly insightful. Nothing new has been said then, but it occurred to me I have made a lot of mistakes in terms of not being assertive enough and not striking a balance between giving and taking. At such stage it might be difficult to make up for those mistakes, but after all, if we have built so much together, maybe instead of pulling it down, let's try to fix it.

A new "normalcy"

My recovery, progressing slowly since 10 September, is taking me back towards "normal" functioning. I do still feel gratitude for being able to walk (yesterday I wandered five kilometres, which two weeks ago was totally out of reach), to drive a car, I cherish every moment without pain. Yet my life remains far from how it looked like until early September. I still work mostly from bed, sitting is confined to half an hour (which indicates how far I can drive), cycling or recreational sports are still forbidden, but I got a green light for a swimming pool. Same as many household chores and DIY tasks, which have become my hobby. Szlachetna Paczka also involves carrying heavy boxes to beneficiaries. Unknown is the list of activities forbidden to me in the long term. I realise I will have to come to terms with some limitations.

Early this week I received MRI description. The wait was long, yet the very description was duly and comprehensively drawn up. Some excerpts are dreadful (forgive me not consulting a dictionary to translate all the stuff I find hard to grasp in my mother tongue), yet my doctor says it is not as bad as it reads and in a few weeks I will be back fit.

In the third decade of October physiotherapy should kick off, once I get a green light for it, my recovery should speed up. Most likely I will continue to work from home, so my workmates should not expect me to show up in the office until December I suppose.

Although in my off-work lifestyle is not sedentary, hours spent behind my desk have taken their toll on spine, even despite an investment into a fancy (home) office chair I made in June 2020. I still don't know how the problem of having to sit eight hours a day five days a week will be solved. Time will tell. Same about longer travels, for the time being impracticable.

There are moments when I believe everything is going to shape up and moments when I am filled with gloom. If at the age of 36 I have experienced such mobility disruption, then what will my spine by like in three decades? I thought depression would be my biggest health problem, yet with properly prescribed medicines it is under full control and has not broken out even in the last tough weeks.

I slowly tame the thought one day a surgery might be the best solution and the only chance for a normal life. If so, provided doctors recommend it, I will opt for the least invasive method involving shorter recovery. I will not count on the public healthcare. Over the whole life I have saved money also for a rainy day. In case of a downpour I will not hesitate to break my bank to ensure I have superior medical service.

Writing a diary of my disease has reminded me what blogging is about. The notes written now will be a testimony of what I have gone through and how I have felt. I am sure I will revisit those posts several times. The read will hopefully fill me then with appreciation of health and remind me merciful fate should not be taken for granted.

Malady as an experience

As I continue to slowly recover, the time is now to dissect what I have been going through as an experience. Although I had to deal with health problems of my parents and grandparents closely, an onlooker's perspective is not comparable to becoming "temporarily disabled", as there was a short moment (only a few hours) when my mobility was more reduced than of a person on a wheelchair.

I strive not to take things for granted. Whenever I (used to) sit behind the wheel I realise I run a risk of being a victim of a traffic accident. I could imagine being immobilised as a result of an accident or a sudden event, but being bed-ridden by a slowly progressing illness was well-beyond my imagination. Lesson learnt - do not take anything for granted.

A malady shrinks your universe. Cycling around Czech Republic in August, canoeing in July, foray to the seaside in June, hiking in May, weekend in Kraków in April. All out of reach even today. At the worst moment a walk to the toilet was a journey of my life. On Thursday I endured relatively well a trip to Wola to a doctor which was quite something.

Being partly immobilised also means reliance on other people even in the basic activities such as dressing up. With hindsight I was lucky to be able to use a toilet or to take a shower on my own, however managing that myself was tiresome as hell.

Switching from the state of being fit and healthy towards an ailment which at its nadir involved intensity of pain which did not allow me to move without screaming out loud was an experience on the verge of being beyond my comprehension.

Coping with pain was another tough lesson. Lying and not straining the spine is indispensable in process of alleviating the inflammation. But for various reasons you cannot lie down 100% of the time, as it would do more harm than good. But if you move, you need to do it carefully, as one reckless move can leave you still in an awkward position, while your neighbours would be wondering why the damn you are screaming a blue murder.

Being sick teaches also patience. In the past, as an adult, I had never been sick for more than a few days. This time, after being a week spent mostly in bed, I realised getting back to normalcy would be a matter of weeks and an upside scenario is that this lousy episode ends by late October. Trying to accelerate the recovery could mean taking several steps back on that path so slowly does it.

Suffering reminds how little sometimes it takes to bring out happiness. I cherished the moment I could walk around the house on my own, the first night when pain's waning intensity let me sleep full seven hours, the first half-a-mile walk. I still somewhat envy people who can ride a bike, run or just sit for more than half an hour, but I believe in a few weeks I will rejoin them.

When confronted with the malady, worries of a healthy man's ordinary life recede into the background. What still mattered was money, as in my situation I could not count on a national health service, while high-class services do cost a lot of money. Money does not bring happiness, but certainly helps.

The last observation is that karma returns. In the last years I did my best to help people in need. I have done it disinterestedly, yet frankly speaking it has paid back.

Once you have reached the end of this post, I call you on feeling gratitude for what you have. The formative experience I have been going through is what I would not wish on anybody.

Questions unanswered (in random order)

Is it meant to last or was it bound to fail?

Do doubts from the very beginning bode well?

If it could fall apart so many times, what keeps it together?

How do I know when downs prevail over ups (or the other way round)?

Do we complement each other actually?

Is the balance between giving and taking struck?

Haven’t I forced those common goals upon?

Is carefree life a value itself?

Where do you yourself life-wise in five years? Is it a part of any plan or do you just flow with the tide?

When can you say a human is emotionally mature?

Is being an adult overwhelming?

A career, earning and spending, dog-breeding, sport, consuming, chasing pleasures of life – is it fine enough? Can I seek depth in it? Can I chase sense init?

Does parenthood alter a human? Does it deprive them of freedom? Is it being slowly regained as offspring grow up?

How much patience does it take to tolerate a life companion? Was he right to say a fellow (wo)man will always f**k you up, so you need to love them to bits to put up with them?

Is sticking to values and goals more important than continuity of a relationship?

Why do people get stuck in mediocre set-ups? Out of convenience or out of fear?

How long will she be deferring that decision? By the time she lives it up fair enough? By the time she earns more money? By the time she carefully thinks it over? By the time she grows mature? By the time it’s too late?

Are we playing for time?

How fed up could I get to realise there can be a better way?

Can a mere fascination be considered infidelity?

Can fatigue of being taken make a man act like a single?

When indifference become a warning sign?

Is a frank conversation overrated?

Is she still a girl scared of responsibilities adulthood involves?

Does she hope it gets too late and I will accept it?

How much space is between a perfect match and a perfect mismatch?

Am I picking nits or are we arguing about elementary stuff?

Are we just passing time?

What holds me back from moving ahead?

What brings out a fear of taking a wrong decision?

How long can we carry on like this?

…and many more…

Fatherhood

Since late adolescence I have been sure one day I want to become a father. Not because it is a socially acceptable model, but out of a primeval instinct, probably not to let my genes go to waste.

My mother was 37 and my father was 38 when I was born. In late 1980s that was considered late parenthood. I actually was not their first child. My mother gave birth to a dead infant nearly 4 years before I was born. The age difference has made itself over my entire lifetime, especially in recent years when my parents' health is no longer enviable. I have always wanted to become a father earlier than my father did and the moment draws near. My goal was to bring up children in good health and not to be a burden for them as long as possible.

You could go on about philosophical consideration on the optimum age a male should become a father. Unlike with women, biology allows men to have offspring into an old age (albeit I believe natural erectile dysfunctions work to prevent this), but I don't think deferring the fatherhood, provided you have a younger female to become a mother, is a preferable solution. A slider needs to be set between maturity and ability to provide for a family (the older, the better) and a male's body ability to regenerate and stamina (the younger, the better).

Definitely a birth of a child is a game-changer in life which turns all routines upside down, prompts you to give up for a while on some pastime activities and lose sleep. An infant needs to be looked after 24/7, hence it is a timesuck for parents, but as many of my friends say, also the biggest pride and joy they have had in their lives.

Given the hardship of early years with the offspring might give a hard time, a reliable life companion is crucial. I am still fighting my fear I will be the one who takes care of most things and is burdened with most duties, which is a sort of strange, since such worries are typical for women who statistically less often can count on their partners than the other way round.

Although three paragraphs earlier I mentioned a male's responsibility to ensure financial stability of a family, I am avidly in favour of a modern family model in which partners roughly equally share household and children-related duties.

Currently the biggest pain in the neck of my girlfriend and mine is workload. I have never had to work as much as these days for a prolonged period and never got behind with work despite working 50 - 55 hours a week. When a weekend comes I am exhausted. I need to sort this out before becoming a parent, however have a prospect of a transfer to a different team with the beginning of 2024, with a scope of duties confined to client-related stuff (current I look after a junior analyst and co-ordinate a multinational project on Poland level). Again, I have written this note from the underground train to optimise my time...

Finanse-wise, my current salary is suffient to provide for a family (assuming my girlfriend reduces her wages to mine on account of changing a job to a less time-consuming), with a decent degree of comfort, hence my strategic goal is to save possibly much money for a bigger property and be less burdened by mortgage repayments once children-related expenses appear.

Having written it all, I bear in mind it takes two to tango...

Autistic burnout

Several times I wrote on the blog about the episodes of depression I went through in my adult life and from which I have apparently recovered. I first made up my mind to share how it felt in August 2017, during the third episode in my lifetime. Last year the “dark sister” turned up again and I dedicated her one post (oddly enough around the same time of the year). At that time I was ahead of being officially diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome.

In each episode I was experiencing some symptoms which overlap a regular depression, but was not affected by others – low self-esteem, decreased drive / energy levels, avoidance of social events – they fortunately did not distress me. I put it down to my willpower and years of working on myself and how much I am worth as a human.

I carried on taking anti-depression pills, decreasing the dosage in line with my psychiatrist’s guidance from December 2021 to April 2022, when I gave up on medicines altogether. Although for my body parting company with neurotransmitter regulators was a harrowing experience, mind-wise everything was in order, until early May 2022, when I began to fall apart day by day. I was knocked down by a combination of factors which could have led to a relapse of depression, but instead of making an appointment with a doctor or returning to my “happiness pills” I decided to scratch beneath the surface. Was I only down in the dumps since the moment in life was anything but easy or was it an illness?

Back from last year I knew Asperger Syndrome and depression tend to coincide, or rather people with AS being misfits are more prone to get depressed. I began searching online whether depression of a person in a mild autism spectrum differs from depression experienced by a neurotypical person. Then the penny dropped.

I have come across a few articles which excellently described what I felt several times in life when I was overwhelmed. Autistic burnout or Asperger burnout, a recently discovered phenomenon (knowledge and awareness of it became prevalent in the English-speaking world in 2020 and 2021, although first articles trace back to 2017 or even 2016) is what has made some periods in my life an ascent uphill since early adulthood. Those were repeatable patterns – after a period of living like a neurotypical person, I got exposure to a load of stressors which bore down on my brain and led to a burnout – a blend of fatigue, exhaustion, nervousness, inability to take up major challenges. Some burnouts were severe enough to resemble depression episodes, some were milder, their durations varied, all receded, although some with help of anti-depression pills (and I cannot tell what would have been had I not supported the recovery with medicines). I consulted a psychiatrist who focuses on adults with AS, she confirmed my suppositions and advised to get in touch with a specialised therapist and abandon medicines which are most probably unnecessary if I can carry on functioning quite normally. Despite apparently getting on well with myself and fulfilling all social roles properly, I am determined to take up therapy. It will ease my pain of being alive, something I have felt for years, admitted to myself, but hid it from nearly everyone around.

In 2021 I somewhat shrugged off the Asperger diagnosis, claiming the official label changes nothing. In 2022 I realised to get on with being in the spectrum I need to raise my self-awareness. I already recognise my strengths and know how to make use of them. Now comes the time to comprehend my limitations, learn to embrace them and not to overreach myself trying to overcome them, as such attempts benefit nobody.

I hope by the end of the year, I will happier and… wiser and feeling more comfortable with my imperfection.

Reasons to worry

Being in a swing of things, I write for posterity, to record my mindset.

Note many reasons for optimism, but I keep hoping the future is brighter than today.

I worry about my country, about how it is ruled.

I worry about the rising inflation, since it impoverishes those already underprivileged. I do not worry about myself. The recent pay rise has offset the higher costs of living and my savings have been parked in inflation-linked government bonds. I know how to take care of myself.

I worry about my compatriots, stupid enough not to get their jab and merrily spreading the virus which takes away more than a thousand lives every three days.

I worry about my girlfriend’s mother, who is pulling through from COVID-19 (also unvaccinated) and possible long-term implications for her health.

I worry about my parents whose access to healthcare has been impeded by the pandemic. I worry about my mother’s cardiac problems which prevent her from having a hip joint surgery. I worry about my father who is facing a diagnosis to confirm or rule out a prostate cancer.

I worry that 5 out of 46 families looked after volunteers from Ursynów area in Szlachetna Paczka have not found their donators, less than a week ahead of the final weekend. More on this on Boxing day.

I do not worry, but have had several stressful moments after a car collision I had over a month ago. More on this in two weeks.

I long for a peace of mind. I long for a restful sleep and waking up later than 5:00 a.m. Fortunately, some of those issues will be sorted out. Others, which cannot be influenced by me, should not worry me excessively. Keeping a healthy distance towards whatever the life brings sounds like a good recipe for not ending up as a bundle of nerves.

The Asperger syndrome – diagnosed

Since early childhood I have felt a kind of different. I have long felt my perception of the world differs from the way the surrounding reality is seen by other people. Years went by, the sense of difference has lingered, yet no longer bothered me. In the adulthood I have been mature enough to foster my distinct personality and learnt not to try hard to fit in where I do not.

With hindsight I believe this blog, which I run mostly for myself and for posterity rather than for a handful of readers, also reflects the syndrome I have.

At the beginning of the relationship with my girlfriend I told her I considered myself a weirdo (dziwadło). It got on her nerves when I called myself a weirdo, yet she noticed in some ways I am unlike other people. She spent hours digging up the Internet and her supposition fell on mild autism or Asperger syndrome. To cut the long story short, I went through a comprehensive (and not inexpensive) diagnosis and have been officially diagnosed with Asperger syndrome.

If you know me well, how would you recognise I am afflicted with this inborn and incurable syndrome (I prefer not to use the word “disorder”)? I am fascinated with everything which can be described with numbers (including the pandemic), memorise them easily, have strong analytical and problem-solving skills, I have specific uncanny interests (recall my winter timelines?), tend to focus on ideas and am guided by principles. Unlike most people with the syndrome, I have no major problems with communication, empathy, recognising emotions or fostering relationships, nevertheless I tend to get stressed when facing new situations or people too intensely.

The team who have diagnosed me told I me I was doing reasonably well and actually did not need therapy to function well in the society. I just have the Asperger syndrome and need to get on with it. They claim I have put in a lot of hard work to develop social skills which come naturally to other people, but for an observer unfamiliar with the syndrome the difference between me and a neurotypical person is hard to grasp.

I should not attempt to change myself, rather embrace myself with all skills and deficiencies which are a part of me. I only somewhat fear my children might inherit the syndrome as forms of autism are generally hereditary.

Frankly speaking, I am still coming to terms with the diagnosis, climbing into a higher level of self-awareness and self-development.