all the lives I’m not living

As we turned the corner onto Kenilworth Road descending to Rathmines, a woman holding a flask of coffee, an umbrella, a laptop bag and dragging a child behind her came into my peripheral vision. She increased her own and as a results the child's speed as we pulled left out of the roundabout making our way the 500 meters or so to the iminent bus stop. She had wet hair look altogether overwhelmed on this freezing cold but clear Monday morning. I turned my attention to the bus driver and met his eyes in the rear view mirror as he purposely slowed down so the woman and child would make it to the stop in time. This made me so happy I felt a small toothless grin rise at the corners of my mouth. He didn't have to do that, I thought as Dublin Bus drivers so often don't and now her day might have even somewhat of a more positive tone. I've been trying to incorporate more mindfulness and noticing into my life and all in all I was pretty pleased I witnessed this moment. I turned around to see did anyone else but as I suspected when I looked behind all I was met with was a sea of hats and the tops of people's heads as the roughly 20 passengers stared into their various phone screens. My brief joy was instantly wiped as I turned to look back out the window, perhaps in search of more moments of humanity that would inspire happier thoughts.

I hadn't noticed the bus driver's cheerful whistling until it had stopped, I brought my gaze to the front windscreen and noticed we were crawling behind a refuse collection lorry. I wondered if this has made him angry as I watched the two young gentlemen jog behind the truck frantically loading, unloading and haphazardly discarding the bins back to the houses they originated from. At our next stop a very dishevelled looking man got on attempting to carry four backpacks. He unloaded them into luggage holder and began what seemed like a premeditated argument with the driver about how his travel pass was in fact valid and worked perfectly well.

"Well it doesn't work here and you can't travel for free so get off now" the driver said in a now raised and stern voice.

I could feel my eyebrows lift as I looked on at the interaction. In eventual defeat the dishevelled and what had now made its way to my senses, awful smelling man collected his bags and disembarked the bus. I wondered why the driver did that, what prejudice he held, what conditioning or belief system prompted this response and not one of similar nature to that of the young mother racing to make her bus.

My mind didn't reval on this for much longer as we turned the corner onto Waterloo Road. Nearly there I thought as I couldn't help but gaze slightly to my right and see a fellow passenger shopping for portable radiators in the Black Friday sales. The driver's whistling resumes, he taps his fingers on the dashboard to some melody we cannot hear and says goodbye to the passengers getting off at Burlington Road.

Is he new or just friendly? I wonder. I don’t know but I’ve never heard a driver say goodbye to that many passengers before

"Bother Landsdowne / Landsdowne Road" I hear and make my way to the middle door exit.

"Thank you", I say assuredly.

"Bye now" I hear subtly as I step off. My thoughts around the truly sweeping range of emotions from the bus driver quickly dissipate as the bus pulls off and gives way to direct but only faintly warm winter sun. I decide against making the short walk to my train and opt for a moment of still photosynthesis instead. It had been days since the sky was like this, since the weak winter sun had a chance to penetrate through the usual endless grey sheet above us. I internally compare the drastic difference in temperatures between my now warming face and freezing fingertips. As I pass the Romanian Embassy I gaze up the sharp corners of expensive red bricks homes and new build offices jutting into the eternally sky-blue background. It's difficult to put into words the feelings of peace and contemptment that wash over me looking at this, I'm never sure if it's the buildings or the clear sky-blue background I enjoy more or is it that their contrast would be nothing without each other. I take several photos and a few 3 or 5 second in length video clips that I will at some point in the future combine into a montage themed to a cripplingly sad trending audio on TikTok. This has become a form of self expression I never knew I would enjoy so much, I also found it surprising and somewhat unsettling just how many strangers on the internet are relating to sadness. A topic for another time perhaps.

I snap out of my winter sunbathing and decide I better get to work. My increasingly carefree attitude towards my job surprising even myself lately as I notice I am over 35 mins past the usual expected arrival time of 10am. I take my path to the sun soaked side as I cross the road and pass by several Garda No Parking signs on poles surrounding the Aviva Stadium. Ireland's victory over Australia yesterday no doubt a triumph for the South County Dublin pubs close by.

Up ahead I hear the alarm of the white barriers about to lower, stopping traffic to let Dublin's excuse for public transport, the DART pass by. I reluctantly increase my leisurely pace to the station, it’s a beautiful morning and I want to savor it. Walking as I usually do straight through the unmanned and open barriers of this station, Greystones 2mins the sign flashes as I squint to see it. Thinking to myself I'll be at my desk before 11am and just how different this would have been just a few years ago. My motivation for success was once a jet engine like feeling inside me and I would be sitting at my desk long before 10am, most likely having spent the morning commute or drive franticly emailing, pretty much since waking. I'm not sure when this drive left me or if it was my own personal growth that subtly overtime paved way for the realisation that all the things I thought a career in the live music industry would bring, acceptance, power, respect, status were never going to make me happy in the way I thought they would. You can't acquire your way into healing, loving and forgiving yourself.

Close by on the platform stood a young American couple, clearly lost, both hunched over gazing into her phone and through my earphones I hear them discuss the best way to get to some restaurant in Bray. On days like today I understand the appeal of Ireland as a holiday destination. I do however often wonder if tourists ever mock our shockingly sub standard national public transport system in comparison with other European capitals they may have visited. The girl's hair is slicked back very tightly in a high ponytail, something I have only recently discovered I admire greatly. I can't help but steal another look, though the suns rays made it difficult, before my attention is brought to my right.

"Sorry man do you know how I get to Blackrock?"

"Yes this train, you’ll hear the automated announcement in about 5 stops."

We ride past Booterstown and the view opens up to one of my favorites, Dublin Bay with not a cloud in the sky. On days like today there is a particular view that has grown to be very important to me, the almost ruler like horizon line stretching from Howth all the way to Dun Laoghaire Marina. The two contrasting blues of sky and sea in competition with each other for who can be more beautiful. Pulling into Dun Laoghaire I feel a familiar feeling beginning to hijack my psyche, the weight of all the lives I'm not living and the what if questions commence. What if I had stayed with R? What if I had felt her warm skin this morning, kissed her forehead goodbye as I made my way to the office from our shared accommodation. Working towards buying somewhere together, Dun Laoghaire maybe. We always loved it here, it’s where we fell in love. She was living here with her mother at the time when our relationship began. She was studying for law exams and would often frequent the library close to my office. I would sit at my desk itching to fabricate a reason to go and see her at lunch, after work or anytime really. I did the same thing with her that I do with all women I become interested in, I obsessed over her. I placed all my value in whether or not she accepted me and this transpired into, love bombing I believe the term is. However this time I actually did fall in love, I would bring her on extravagant dates and gift her thoughtful presents. The pandemic hit, offices closed and we somehow ended up in a fairytale. Her mother had vacated the rented property in Dun Laoghaire due to work commitments in another part of the country leaving the house to our discretion for the foreseeable. I think it was the happiest I'll ever be in my life and if you were to ask the version of myself that I am now what I would consider success, this was it. A nice house in an old victorian seaside town, with the most beautiful girl and two dogs at my side as we entered late spring. There was no work to be done and bar a few hours emailing and video calling the rest of my time was spent falling head over heels in love with her.

"Sandycove" I hear on the speaker and it snaps me out of my daze. Arriving at the office to a full room, my colleagues surprised as ever to see me as I am only one tin the company that is still permitted to work remotely and completely flexibly. Nostalgia is starting to grow on me for this crowd and this life as I know it's coming to an end soon. It's funny when the time comes for change we so desperately think we need, change we think will fix all our immediate problems finally arrives, you suddenly start to think that maybe there is nothing wrong with where you are and what you have. The truth is there is absolutely nothing wrong I thought there was but there isn't, I am very lucky to have all that I do, including my health and relative material wealth but I can also see the next 30 years of my life playing out here and am not entirely sure if that it's what I want. Is that not as good of a reason as any to implement radical change? The talk of the football, our family bosses and rising artist fees make me smile to myself. I think about how this was once all I wanted and how I will miss it greatly when I leave.

At lunchtime I remembered I needed to get my chain fixed, rather than googling a place I decided I would just walk to the main street and surely come across a place, any excuse to get back out into the glorious day. As if it had never been there before, the sign of a jewelers came into my view as I turned the corner onto the main street. I must have walked up and down this street thousands of times over the last few years and never once have a noticed this door or shop window. From the outside it looked like it was derelict and I chose to side more with that narrative rather than the one that criticized my own lack of awareness. I stepped inside was met with a very pungent combination old mould and damp smells, it reminded me of my grandmothers house. An elderly and somewhat nervous man greeted me, I explained to him my surprise at the shops existence, he didn't seem very interested and I proceeded to show him my chain for repair. He retreated to his work station and silently began working on it after informing me it would only take a few moments.

"This is a good strong chain" he mumbled. "Yes it’s real silver I think" I responded to further silence and resumed my examination of the very old shop. There was an analog cash register, pine cabinets and a glass display counter that housed very little except a handful of wristwatch straps. Every so often the owner gave a soundless whistle as if to suggest he was making good progress and I felt pleased that I had given him my business, small as it was.

"That’s all set now he said after a few minutes, "you can wear it again. €10 please and cash only" A slight suspicion is always raised in me when hear this, a direct result of my capitalist conditioning no doubt. I remembered that I had exactly a €10 note in my wallet from the yoga class I attended the day before that only accepted cash. I explained the rare occasion of me having physical money and this appeared to anger him as if to say he would have held my chain captive and sent me to an atm nearby should I have had no alternative. He offered to help me out the chain on but I managed it in one go, thanked him and stepped out into the crisp December air. Its little things like this that make me wonder why things work out sometimes and not others. I wanted to sit in the sun and make use of the cloudless sky, opting against my usual seaside walk, I headed away from the Main Street and up the hill towards a park I could see in the distance. As I approached the top I looked left and stared down the road of where I once resided with my ex girlfriend lived at one time. I thought again of how happy we were, how we slowly learned about each other and had what seemed like endless opportunities in front of us, before any diagnosis. So many parts of me wanted to escape Dublin, there were reminders of her everywhere I turned but maybe there was nothing wrong with Dublin and I was purposely looking for reminders of her. It is only as of late that I have deep dived into my patterns in terms of relationships, discovering that I fit the description of having an avoidant attachment style. I'm not sure the awareness of same has provided any relief as to why I so desperately crave intimacy and connection only to feel an overwhelming urge to escape and sabotage it when I get it. Once alone I then again crave it and the cycle continues, well hopefully not anymore but that has been the pattern to date.

The park was surrounded but old Victorian houses, worth millions at this stage no doubt and as I approached the park I saw only one person inside. I had never been here before and I wondered if it was one of those gated community only member parks you see in posh areas of London like Kensington. I walked the perimeter and eventually discovered a gate left ajar and made my way to the sunshine soaked bench on the middle of the park. I sat, closed my eyes and let the weak winter rays of the sun bathe my face. After a few minutes I could feel the rays weakening and only covering a portion of my face. Opening my eyes and noticing that despite it only being 2pm, the sun was starting to make its decent beneath the horizon for another day.

On the DART after work I resist the urge to aimlessly scroll on my phone, attempting to implement my mindfulness practices. However the common sight of a sea of commuters hunched over staring at their screens makes me want to do the same. Not because I'm jealous but because the reality of the dystopian like disconnected nature of where we are headed as a collective society is all too upsetting. This evening I would be engaging in an evening of entertainment with my younger twin brothers what would be I imagine one of the last concerts I would attend for pleasure while working for the company! Sometimes like this evening, being outside is starting to make me feel and a discomfort I never know was inside me. I'm so chronically aware of how alone I am and spend a lot of time judging myself for this very fact. On bad days like today, I start to feel like I don't belong in this world, I don't deserve to be walking the streets of this city or any place where everyone else seem so connected, like it's me versus them. I feel even my own brothers are taking pity on me as they agree to come along to the concert. One brother is working late at his new internship that he hates. It’s funny watching them enter the corporate world and seeing their initial distaste to it. When will this feeling leave me? Is it a choice? Do I have a say in how I feel or am I descended to feel the crushing weight in my chest of self judgement and all the lives I’m not living. Myself and the other brother the more empathetic of the two accompanies me to a quirky traditional rural Irish themed pub in the city centre that also operates a pretty decent burger joint. This brother has become one of the biggest inspirations in my life, his attitude, outlook and morals are something I strive for now, despite him being 10 years younger than me. He, like my mother has developed an epilepsy condition, unlike my mother however he has, in a stoic like fashion, implemented an extremely positive belief system and it radiates out of him. I try to suppress the self talk telling me that he doesn’t want to be here and that I don’t believe anyone actually likes me as we order burgers and two pints of Guinness, my first alcoholic drink in over 4 months.

We wolf down our meal and make our way to the collect my other brother, passing Connolly Station and then onto George's Dock, it's surprisingly warm for a December evening so we walk chatting about my college days in this part of Dublin. We arrive at PWC and collect my other brother, I can feel myself feeling a little drunk, unsurprising since I haven't engaged with alcohol ery much over the last 14 months. I like to tell myself this was by choice, for my health and general well being but truth be told I've had very little social interaction that would usually call for alcohol to be involved over the last 2 years. I decided to stop drinking when the last of my friends left Ireland, it was an easy thing to incorporate when the amount of socialising I did also drastically reduced. They weren't particularly close friends of mine but old friends I've had since adolescence and we ended up living together. They have been there since their early 20s and me joining later but the better part of a decade was spent together in some shape or form in North Dublin. I always kept myself to myself and explored ideologies outside of their group, I felt there was more to how they were living and there was always a lot of drugs, alcohol and cigarettes. Not that I thought that I was ever better than anyone, in fact my self esteem couldn't have been lower and probably still is, but I felt there was more. I always feel like this, whatever situation I am in I can't help but feel there is something better we could be doing, I'm not sure where it came from but it can be very exhausting and has often stopped me enjoying myself. I developed a pretty unhealthy relationship with cocaine in my late 20s and early 30s. As we all got jobs and incomes our collective usage steadily increased, it didn't work out well for me. I found myself using it as an escape and became somewhat reliant on it on a regular night out. Our group became this closed circle of people who would just engage with each other and take cocaine. Nights out would start in our living room, reluctantly head into some bar or pub that was probably more suited for people much older than us for a few hours but eventually making our way back to our living and proceeding to drink and take cocaine until the early morning. I find it hard not judge myself and wonder was it this behaviour that lead to the isolation I now feel as they have all left Dublin I find myself extremely lost and without a close friend group. The graduation from my 20s has been an extremely challenging reality for me to settle into. It's only when I stopped taking cocaine I noticed how unhealthy and destructive it had been and was becoming, I also noticed that it was almost always a direct result of drinking alcohol so cutting both out seemed logical.

Kevin and I merrilly chatted on the steps of PWC and looked into my phone screen at the lyrics of some Rod Stewart song we were trying to remember when Ian (my other brother and twin of Kevin) creeped up behind us.

"Lets go" he uttered.

Ian reminds me of myself a lot, he's quiet, internalizes a lot and this can come across as self-centered and selfish. He is a angel though, as is Kevin and I am so happy and proud of the young men they are becoming, that they are my brothers and we have the close relationship we do. Lately however as I find the three of us spending more time together and my increasingly isolated life is more visible to them, do they judge me for this or even worse, take pity on me. Sometimes when I have more clarity and a sense of space between my thoughts and myself, I realize that this is just me judging myself.

Descending on the arena, it's nearly 9pm and we've missed the support act which I'm actually kind of annoyed about as I really enjoy one or two of their songs. I gather our passes and head for the members only club, something I do so offhandedly now but again years ago would have been such a significant event. We find seats and I try to suppress the self talk, I think more alcohol will help and order 3 espresso martinis for us. It's like everyone else is connected in some way, like they have a script or manual on how to just be. How to be friends or how to behave in social groups and instead of receiving a copy I've been plunged into this life, completely instruction-less as I try to navigate what seems to come so naturally to everyone else. I look to my left and right in the crowd of the show, people enjoying themselves, not crippled by a sense of analysis as to whether it’s ok for them to be occupying this space, whether they are carrying out this activity of attending a concert with friends correctly. I just want a break from it, my heart is tired of wondering where and how I will ever fit in. Towards what seemed like the end, a great silence and blackness falls on the arena before a great yellow light fills the space and controlled fireworks explode to cheers from the crowd. A song my brothers and I, along with the whole crowd know so well commences and before I know it we are all singing along.

“This is fucking class” Ian leans over and shouts in my ear. I turn and smile to him as I wrap my arm around his shoulder, embracing him tightly as we sing “god the kid looks so sad”.