It’s not lack of fun I lamentioned the most. I’m rather easily amused when it comes down to it and I like to think I’m making progress with my impossible projects in the mind. I’ve got a pretty decent grasp on a lot of conceptualization and different perspectives and perceptions as well as they convoluted nature that life some times has.
I think if I were to allow myself regrets about things that have happened in my life that can’t unhappiness, I’d start with my missed childhood. From there, I’d regret that so many people, including my step dad and cousin knocked me down lower than low, so it wasn’t just bullies. I’ve gone through life being told in one breath how much potential I have and in the next what a piece of shit I am. The friends I had, I kind of just hung around until they accepted me, had them ditch me a lot, beat me up for no reason, etc. I became cooler over time, but it took effort.
From there, I’d regret easily responding to teasing and taunting. I can take a joke between friends pretty easily when it’s lighthearted banter, but even as a kid I’d respond. I’d regret going through trauma and thinking myself a fuck up for so long until I finally got to where I could see myself as more than that, only to have my life unravel on me and winding up homeless.
I’d regret a bit the friends lost, e communities I’ve seen destroyed as much by me being lost to negativity and depression, insecurity etc. as anything that the trolls did. I’d regret that it took me so long to make the necessary breakthroughs to do anything worthwhile in life, for how stubbornly I persisted in having my arguments be the argument enders while I was possibly only partially correct. I’d regret taking on what I’ve take on for the days when so many fucked up things swarm my mind and try to destroy me or just fuck with me.
But, fuck regrets. I’d regret how closed I’ve become, not because I’m a social hermit, but because Ive changed so much while others remain the same and I see their schemes and their drama and just don’t want any part of it. I know what it winds up being every time.
I’m still as open as I used to be, I’m just more silent. I see more clearly. I’ve worked my ass off to see the good in life. It hasn’t been easy.
I’ve been selfish. I’ve held a lot of pain back, pulled my punches. I keep forgetting that sharing is caring.