Tag Archives: regret

Vernal Reveries

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Vernal Reveries

And it’s only now, that I get it.

Naivety and overconfidence. What a combo. 

 What though the radiance which was once so bright

 Be now for ever taken from my sight,

 Though nothing can bring back the hour

 Of splendour in the grass,

 of glory in the flower,

 We will grieve not, rather find

 Strength in what remains behind;

 In the primal sympathy

 Which having been must ever be;

 In the soothing thoughts that spring

 Out of human suffering;

 In the faith that looks through death,

 In years that bring the philosophic mind.

~ William Wordsworth

Unknown Territory

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Unknown Territory

I am unsure how people repair relationships. I feel like given my path and occupation, I am someone who should know. I can tell people how to do it, via a book and/or my “school learnin” but when it comes to my own, I am not sure. I have always found it relatively easy to remain friends or become friends again with exes; mainly, I believe, because we start out as friends. But I have recently made some decisions that while they have a lot of mitigating circumstances around them, I am feeling regret over most of them. I have written a lot about regret and I work to really not do anything that I will… But, being a human, I fuck up. A lot.

I have been able to reestablish the friendship facet of the relationship in this situation, but after realizing the potential mistake of ending it, understanding the reasons that contributed to the ending of it (I take responsibility for 60+/-% of that ending…), as well as knowing how I feel post-break up and processing, I don’t know how to move forward. I know what I want. I know what I had. I know that it was not how it should have been but it was more than repairable. But of course, me being me, I self-sabotaged. Cause nothing says “Jani” like “Ehhhh this hurts…. RUN AWAY! CUT TIES WITH WHAT YOU CAN CONTROL! DISTRACT! DISTRACT! DESTROY!”

I also find that I make major decisions (that are usually bad in the winter) between December-January. I am not entirely sure this isn’t related to stress at this time of year and/or seasonal depression…perhaps both… but now I sit in a place of limbo and suspended grief. Wanting to fix things but not entirely knowing if I even have the right, to try, to inflict myself upon others…But I also know that couples have gone through much worse and wound up stronger, healthier.

I reflect now on the relationship and see what was missing and how both parties handled it badly, due to both parties not communicating their needs to the other in a timely fashion. It was after the fact that the communication came. And we are in a good place.

But everything else, the future plans, the qualities that we loved about each other, the idiosyncrasies that drove the other crazy but still allowed us to love each other unconditionally, everything else is there, intact. Neither of us are the same, but the core of myself, the core of them, the core of US…the foundation, is there. It’s got a few cracks, but nothing that would be not repairable. We have both forgiven each other. But of course, things are different.

So the question I posit to you, the reader, is when it comes to breakups, if love and abuse are never an issue, can negative things cast positive light on things that need tending? Or is it always an ending? Can you begin again? Not where you left off, because THAT preempted the demise of the relationship, but can a new better relationship be born from the fire and sorrow that was during and post-breakup? Is love enough? Love the verb, not the noun?

Reflections, regrets, realizations, and flinching awareness.

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Reflections, regrets, realizations, and flinching awareness.

I usually do some sort of wrap up at the end of the year/season, Christmas for some reason makes me nostalgic and introspective. I have such mixed feelings about it, it holds many good memories for me and yet, so many more traumas are associated with it for me and their connected grief…. Anyway, my wrap ups and year in reviews…Historically, they have usually been a somewhat vague and tongue in cheek collection of my “about mes.” This year may still be vague, but perhaps more palatable.

I haven’t been able to blog lately, mostly due to simply not having the time, but partially due to me not making the time and choosing to retreat within myself for the sake of not thinking about the world, my reality, my life, my relationships, etc.

Ah, but the subconscious has a way of poo pooing that sort of defense mechanism, doesn’t it? Little by little, mini passive-aggressive comments worm their way out of my mouth and cosmic 2x4s work their way into my dreams. #Teamnosleep, my most constant bedtime companion for the better of the last two years has given me a sort of push lately to lie in silent, darkened rumination; accompanied by only my most forbidden thoughts.

Two of my exes are deceased. The first, I grieved for his family and his son, but it didn’t affect me for too long, as I really did not know him very long or very well, in hindsight. The most recent, died by his own hand in a scenario I was all too familiar with. With his death, I was confronted with the very real fact that the imagined future interaction between us could never happen. I had always anticipated that some time in the future, we would run into each other in a gas station or a bar, back in our hometown, have a drink and simple interaction wherein we forgave each other and spoke about how we had both come to understand the faults of the relationship as well as our own responsibility in them. It would end with a smile and a hug then we would move on, waving or even speaking briefly if ever we came across each other in the future. But as numerous stories, songs, and movies depict, “someday” often does not happen and you must live with the regret that tomorrow never came. Make sure people know how you feel before it is too late, right? Ah, regret. Regret is a bitch.

I’ve tried very diligently to not live with regret and to make peace with my actions and find the silver lining in them that are typically easier to find in review, right? Through a looking glass, darkly…Had one not made this choice, this would not have happened. If one had not left this person, you would not have met this person. Life really is a “Choose your own Adventure” book, only you can’t skip ahead and try it out before you choose, right? No, you can only walk back through the choices and woolgather about the possible ways things could have gone, given that one, that fifteen choice(s) again. I digress.

Back to the point. Regret.

The word itself means “A feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or been done.” as a noun, “Feel sad, repentant, or disappointed over (something that has happened or been done, especially a loss or missed opportunity)” as a verb.

I have come find myself a sad representation of all I champion when it comes to regret. I encourage people to regret nothing and yet I myself, regret so much. So many choices I have made in order to not disappoint other people, choices I have made to make things easier for myself, for others, choices I have NOT made due to my own fear.

I miss friends that I have lost contact with out of my own pride and stubbornness.

I regret giving up on things and people to seemingly save myself.

I personally can hold a grudge longer than anyone I know. It gives me a protective coating to avoid dealing with feelings. It is how I have come to be able to dissociate from relationships which have ended and protect my stupid heart. By the time I have lost the passion of the grudge and come full circle to face my emotions behind the grudge, it is no longer an appropriate time confront and deal with those feelings as a party to it, it is then a one sided process that is not as cathartic as it could have been. Take my relationship with my mother, for example.

It has been years since I had any kind of positive relationship with her. If she was to die tomorrow, would I regret not forgiving her? What would it be like to not have to carry the negativity of hating her, resenting her, PITYING HER? I know it would be good for myself, maybe for her. But I can’t do it.

Other relationships I have had, I want to call them up and just be like, “I miss my friend. Here is a rundown of everything I know I did that hurt you. Can we just be pals again?”

But you can’t. You have no right to insert yourself back into their script once you have taken yourself out of it.

Just like in a choose your own adventure book, you can’t go back without the knowledge of how it went before. It guides your actions and makes you question if had the second choice been the first choice, would the end result have been the same? We can never know.

The “What ifs” are a dangerous cycle of questioning oneself. You have to be selfless and know that no matter what you feel, your actions affect other people.

Today I make the choice to accept the repercussions of my previous actions.

Today I decide to make more conscientious decisions about my world, so that in the future, I have less “what ifs” to ponder. No more regrets.

Today I choose their happiness over my guilt.

To be continued.

Being a slave to my fear

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Being a slave to my fear

Recently a friend and I were talking about fear and things that people regret; how someone had said that people don’t lie in their death beds and regret the things that they did, but the things that they didn’t. While I know that I am not necessarily unique in this regard, I (and those that know me for any length of time in real life) realize that more often than not, it is not what I “do not DO” per se, it is what I do not say that I regret. Doing things is easy. I am prone to bouts of monomania and once I decide to do something, I pretty much do not stop until I do it. This has both hindered and helped me in my life. It has gotten me out of shitty relationships, shitty situations, kept me from being an addict, kept me from having a criminal record, etc.

On the other side, it probably contributed to me being in those relationships/situations and it also provided me with a less than stellar job history in my early 20’s. Now that I appear to be a responsible adult on paper, it leads to some really interesting conversations about why my unique name and social security number come up in at least ten states connected to lots of different things. It’s also why I could never change my name again (not that I would want to, Jesus.) My wanderlust may be considered maladaptive, but I think it is the ultimate adaptive strategy; I either become what I need to be to fit into the situation or I leave the situation. It has definitely been a key piece to my resilience. It’s how I cope. What else can I say?

The things that I look back on my life and wish I had done differently are always things that I wish I had said; opportunities I passed up to say something and just see where the chips lie. When I was younger and didn’t really give a fuck about what people thought because my temporal lobe and prefrontal cortex had not finished developing, it was no big thing. I could say something and mean it for a half hour and then change my mind immediately.

As I got older, and more experience with how people received the things that I said, I became afraid of seeming needy or sounding weird or maybe I was afraid people would think that I wanted something from them, even if I didn’t want anything except the shared experience.

It really has become a “white men can’t jump” situation and I am Rosie Perez. Don’t get me a glass of water, motherfucker. Tell me you know how it feels to be thirsty. Or better yet, tell me you are thirsty, too.

I very rarely tell people how I really feel about people or situations these days. And I regret that. I regret not allowing myself to not have control of a situation or not being able to control what people think of me when I say something so I don’t say it.

And I know, oh I know, control is an illusion.

But I still feel like I must be my best PR agent.

If I tell you what I really think and feel, you are going to think I am a fucking loon.

Or, in the alternative, you will reciprocate. We will have a laugh. We will share a moment that no one else has experienced with either of us and feel freedom in the genuine exchange of energy and sincere emotion, regardless of the influence of chemicals either internally created or externally consumed.

But fear does not let me see that reality when I am calculating the potential outcomes.

Living in a choose your own adventure book has it’s negatives as well. The end is always evolving based on every choice, every word.

So today, I am letting go of that need for control.

I have put into motion certain things that will free me from this illusion of control over actions and feelings.

No more will I reflect upon a situation and wish I had been totally fucking honest in my words as well as my actions.

Actions are easy.

Ironically for me, words are hard.

If they like what I have to say, awesome.

If not, fuck em.