What the hell is the point of living...

My son is one year old today. I'm a dad, and I have been for a year. How is that even possible? I don't remember the last time I got to sleep in past 7am. I used to love to read. I loved to play video games. I loved going to see metal shows. When was the last time I got to do anything with those hobbies? I remember seeing Metallica one month before my son was born. I had such a great time, and the music was absolutely incredible. I want to go to another concert one day. A day when my son will be older and grow out of being a crappy baby that I have to constantly take care of. I don't even want to live in the present moment anymore. It sucks. I want to live in that day when I can go see Metallica again, or when I can read a good book for 8 hours. I'm tired of being a dad. I'm tired of being a parent. I never wanted to be a parent. Now I am one. I will be one for the next 17 years. Then there's college, and one day he may have kids of his own. By the time he has kids of his own, I'll be old. Then I will die. Then it will be over. I will have lived my life doing what - being a dad? Being a provider? I have no other identity. I work, I come home, and I take care of my infant son. He does nothing but cry and make extreme amounts of poop. I clean his poop now. When he grows up, he'll stop pooping so much but will still make it in extreme quantities. I will still have to clean it. At what point do I get to see Metallica again? When do I get to read a good book? I want to read The Count of Monte Cristo on the beach while the sun sets. I can't remember the last time I went to the beach. I miss it. I miss summer, going to see my boyfriend (now husband), and hanging out during the summer. I miss being in college and reading for fun. I miss reading... When do I get to do that again? I don't want to be a parent anymore.