Regrets. Until 2009 I lived my life pretty much to a ‘no regrets’ principle. What the hell was the point of thinking something done and dusted could have been different? I made the decisions I’d made with an honest heart and for the best, so going over alternatives and worrying about the choices made seemed stupid to me. If I lived it all again I was sure I would have gone with the same decisions a second time. Maybe if I come back for a third life I could add some variety.
But in 2009 regret took over and since that time I regret a massive number of things in my life. I’ve not been capable of even seeing the options, never mind making the most of things. The more I think about this the worse it seems. I regret all the paths taken and regret all the paths I didn’t take too. So I can’t win. That’s what depression is you see. It tells you everything that’s wrong and points out where you strayed, where you could have gone and then tells you in no uncertain terms that you should never have been on any path in the first place. In fact, you’d have been better off in bed.
There, at least the twists and turns my thoughts and I torment each other with, could mount up without fear of action. Like that buzzing fly taunting me now as I tap away at the keyboard. The dripping tap in the kitchen and the smoke alarm beeping because its battery is ending its life. These things all say the same thing to me. Regret.
Tonight was Holy Thursday Mass. The last supper, the washing of the feet. And afterwards the lights are all turned off and there are just candles in front of the alter for the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrement, marking the hours before Judas betrays Jesus. I sat there contemplating. It’s peaceful, spiritual, but so, so scary. I cried several times and couldn’t come to terms with myself. After almost an hour and a half it was time for me to leave. I moved onto my knees and tried to pray away regret but it’s still here with me now. I will sleep instead, let the mirtazapine take me off instead. Tomorrow will be another day.