The Inner Hercules…

When I mess about and sing to my son, I think about the inner Hercules within me.

Now at 12 months old, he’s still a little bit young for Disney themes, but if per chance I manage to string a few notes together in tune you might here through the window a concept that is in many of us.

“I have often dreamed of a far-off place
Where a great, warm welcome will be waiting for me
Where the crowds will cheer when they see my face
And a voice keeps saying, this is where I’m meant to be

I will find my way, I can go the distance
I’ll be there someday, if I can be strong
I know every mile will be worth my while
I would go most anywhere to feel like I belong

I am on my way, I can go the distance
I don’t care how far, somehow I’ll be strong
I know every mile will be worth my while
I would go most anywhere to find where I belong”

Now it doesn’t matter if the crowds are screaming or not… but what matters is that when I’m with him I sometimes feel like I’m drifting away, and on other occasions I just feel like I need to lock down every numbing thing that’s happened to me before now.

The essence of the song is real and true, I do push for more and I fight to be where I want to be, but the reality is that I only really want to be free when I look in the mirror at what I’ve become.

Sometimes I stare into my own reflection and the light that’s faded from my once bright blue eyes and I know the world has weathered me…

There was once a blind optimism inside me that could take on anything, but although that man is real and waiting somewhere within, its the tainted memory I need to escape, to move forward and release that part of me.

I sat with my son this evening and I thought about what’s befallen my life to date, then I stared at his enchanted face and I felt so heavy inside, like I knew he must never know the darkness I’ve tread until now.

I don’t want to hide who I am or my experience, or anything that can enlighten his mind and spirit as he evolves, but I wish every day that I was free of this burden.

Society left a rock on my back and the stigma stamped all over it is overbearing…

It’s not because of the stigma of mental health, it’s the fucking mundane nature of the capitalist mentality that’s enveloped every ounce of our being from the moment we’re bullied because we don’t wear Nike trainers to gym class…

I’ve been driven to fill a brief set out by thousands before me and I just don’t…

I don’t want a fucking normal job, to rock up for a 9 to 5 every day, but for god sake I wish that I felt the freedom I should be feeling in the life I lead.

When you’re caught between a rock and some granite emotionally, and there’s just too much to remove to make you whole again, where do you find that inner Hercules?

Maybe the only answer is to get up again tomorrow and have another go… hoping one day it clicks…

People often tell me that I inspire them in what I write, but really I’m just weak and lost, just like many others. My only hope in standing before the next crowd is that I won’t waver and that in that moment I show my strength, the strength that I force to the surface when I’m with my son, so that all his world is filled with laughter.

The fact is that we should forget about Hercules, forget about that hero, because they aren’t coming!

So dust yourself off, stand up straight and walk on… because round the next corner there’s a new memory to replace that old one you thought had a grip on you; drop the negativity and go and hunt for those moments, as our amassing of those new moments, is realistically the only way to achieve the clarity we seek, it is there that we find our illusive Hercules within.

 

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