You know the feeling, we’ve all had it- that oh shite what have I done? I’d do anything to go back and undo that- I wish I hadn’t done that… stupid stupid stupid… etc, etc. But I’m not talking about knocking over the glass of red wine onto the cream carpet, or falling on your arse in front of the person you’re trying to impress. I’m talking about the bigger stuff.
We all think that we would want to go back and change things, but would we really? I know that I wouldn’t.
It seems odd, to outsiders- people who’ve never been in my situation it probably seems totally insane- but I wouldn’t change what happened to me. I wouldn’t change my breakdown or what those boys did to me. I wouldn’t change the years of bullying- I wouldn’t change it. Not one second.
I don’t know why- I think it’s something to do with the fact that those things have made me tough, they’ve made me strong, and to take away those things would leave me open and weak. Maybe it’s because I can’t imagine what life could possibly be like without having those things happen to me. I don’t know.
There could be some deep seated psychological reason why I think like this, or I could just have a twisted, self punishing streak running through me- I self harm even when I don’t want to, I thrive off the stinging pain caused when I slap myself, properly smack myself around the face. It’s the most wonderful sound.
There are benefits to my breakdown, my writing before was awful, but the stuff I wrote afterwards was so much better. Just the emotion and the readability, it was so much clearer.
I feel safer too; I’ve seen what I’m capable of doing to other people. I can walk down the street knowing that I’ve done worse things to myself than what they can do to me. I feel invincible.
However there are some things in my life that I do regret, but they have nothing to do with my illness.
I lost my grandparents and various other family members at a young age. I remember when I was a child it was always a chore to go see my grandparents- although I was very close to my mother’s parents as both my mum and dad worked full time after I was born, so my grandparents looked after me- but as I got older I drifted away from them. I was too young to realise that they were old, and the time I had with them was precious. At that age I was much more interested in staying at home playing with my dolls than going to visit family.
I regret that, I regret that more than I can say. Because they were very precious to me, and the memories I have of spending time with them are ones that I treasure. I love my grandparents. They were wonderful people, they are wonderful people.
I can’t describe how much it hurts to realise that I don’t recognise their smell, that I can’t remember the sound of their voice- I can’t even remember what they looked like.
Maybe that’s what the self punishing’s all about- maybe it’s that feeling of regret, of failure that has never left me. Maybe it’s the feeling of shame; once things are done they cannot be undone. Perhaps this is my mind’s way of saying “this is your punishment, you deserve it.”
I think there’s something that I feel guilty for, something that I regret, and as I can’t change the past I have to punish myself to make amends- but when can I stop?
Of course, all of this is just me thinking. I don’t know why I behave in the ways that I do, and if what I’m guessing above is true then it certainly won’t be the whole picture. But I know deep down inside that I’m making amends for something- I just can’t put my finger on what it is.
One of my sayings is: “Don’t live your life on could have’s.”
If you live your life with regret, always looking back and taking things apart and wishing that something else could have happened, then it will destroy you. I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, that I should regret, but I don’t. I know that if I spent all my time and energy into regretting them then I wouldn’t be able to move forward and get on with my life. It would destroy me.
I’m Wren, and the only thing I regret is not spending more time with my loved ones before they crossed over.
Listening to: Mesmerism by Faith and the Muse. Reminds me of Rajna- sort of oriental, but kind of creepy at the same time.