I rather like my doctor. I generally don’t have a high opinion of DO’s, but she’s sharp, unflappable, and runs the appropriate tests when I have a concern. Weirdly, I’ve had incredibly bad experiences with male doctors about this, they always seem inclined to resist checking into my concerns. They let their ego get in the way, I don’t think like that. That might be specific to me, I don’t know.

So, it’s not a doctor issue. I’ve been having hot flashes. While I am probably overdue for menopause based on age, being a dude without ovaries, this is weird. We changed some meds, and ran some tests.

Feminists love to talk about how men won’t go to the doctor. As if that somehow excuses that men die (much) sooner. Fuck, I go for everything. I’m a full time single dad with a full time job, I can’t afford to be sick. I caught COVID and I couldn’t get out of bed for five days, I’m not sure how the kids or cats survived. I did order pizza, thank god for the internet. Maybe the cats ate pepperoni? I’ll never know. Anyhoo…

The ct calcium scan came back. The doctor was concerned about heart issues. Turns out I have some plaque. Not enough to be concerning, most of the time, but all of mine is sitting in a place that is really good at killing people. Plug my numbers into the risk calculator, My heart is twenty years older than my biological age (which is already up there).

Im not trying to live forever. I was married to an undiagnosed borderline, the marriage, divorce and custody hell afterward broke me. Any feminist that tells you the family court system is fair didn’t have to try to protect their kids from an unstable mother, the court bent over backwards to enable her damage. When she harmed the kids and went to prison, I was suddenly good enough to parent again. Barely… her enabling parents had almost as much power over my kids as I did. Absolutely insane.

Broken. Not getting better. Like a lot of men, I have a responsibility that keeps me going, but only just barely. I can’t enjoy things anymore. Pretty much anything. Meds don’t help. Therapy not only didn’t help, most therapists tried hard to make it worse. There is a rampant anti-male bias among psychologists, it’s laughably horrendous. I encourage men to seek mental/emotional help, but it’s a goddamn boobytrap more often than it isn’t. Be careful, and get the fuck out when they turn malignant.

I’m wandering, I’m sorry. My doctor knows my situation. Knows I’m stressed out from my job and dealing with my kid’s problems. Knows how much I need to keep my job. Knows how much I’m struggling.

When it came to motivating a change in my behavior, all she could come up with is “you have to for your kids”. Like I don’t fucking know that. When my ex wouldn’t let me see my kids (and the family court fucking shrugged their shoulders, just like they did when my kid’s shoes had had actual holes in them), providing for my kids (that I rarely got to see and couldn’t call on the phone) got me out of fucking bed. Got me to work. For two years I walked around the office crying. I got lectured and threatened by HR. Women stopped making eye contact. Men were incredibly supportive, by the way. That shit about “men won’t let men cry” is weaponized feminist lies.

I know I have a responsibility to my kids. But I don’t have anything else anymore. What little pleasure I did have, I’m supposed to give up now, to stay alive. I want to say that I don’t know what to do, but I do. Turn grey and kill any part of my soul that gets in the way of getting what I need to get done, done.

I’m not mad at my doctor. I don’t think she had anything else to work with. When trying to convince me to stay alive at the cost of hating what life was left to me, all she could come up with was “do it for other people”. Not gonna lie, this is bullshit. Empathy for men is a step to far. Sympathy for men, dear god no. Just never ending responsibility.

Anyhoo. Be nice to yourself, no one else will do it for you. It’s not that they don’t think you can break, you just aren’t worth anything to them after you break.