Wrong Way
It’s going to take a while for some of this to blow over – actually, a long while. Much like the frustration or residual anger that I’ve been harbouring over the past two years with regards to the events that’ve transgressed, realizations and changes don’t arrive quickly. And while it may seem as though that I write this entry as a knee-jerk reaction to a conversation recently had, I in fact write this post with clarity, for the first time, as a sincere recognition and acknowledgement of the fact that what I’ve done is wrong.
So the expression on your face is quizzical, wondering what is it exactly that I’ve done? For me to explain would merely perpetuate the cycle of wrongdoings upon wrongdoings, but not for the reasons that you may consider. Really, I don’t want to delve into the specifics on account of the fact that Google so kindly reminds us that everything is quickly and easily indexed, and that data scrubbing takes quite some time. So I leave the explanation on the wayside, and instead opt to weigh in on what I feel.
That said, we’ll be keeping to the pseudonyms.
Part of what I’m talking about at this very moment concerns growing up and an attempt at being the “better person.” I’ve lived much of my life in the digital space (which we will be save for another entry). As we’ve seen through the posts that I’ve written in this past year, I’ve been able to manage my depression, better understand some of the things that’ve happened, and begin to gain a sense of compassion and empathy.
The problem with depression, though, is that it is so self-serving. You lose sight of the other perspectives that are involved in your everyday life – I’m not referring to the immediate support system, but rather, the perspectives of colleagues, acquaintances, and friends. Sometimes roles cross over and when they do, it most certainly can get messy. But the biggest hindrance that one may face after all the therapy, medication and focus on oneself, is that you tend to forget about the influences and consequences of your actions.
For instance, I’ve spent time chasing after answers believing that they were owed to me, when in fact they weren’t. The consideration of whether or not the Intern wanted to re-hash anything from two years ago hadn’t crossed my mind until quite recently.
And today, I realized I was doing something similar but in a different manner. I was hounding after any possible recognition for the wrong that I had felt to have been dealt to me, holding onto whatever I could to remember that I had been “mistreated” in some way. It served no good – it only ended up hurting me and others in more ways than I could’ve imagined.
So today, I apologize for what I’ve done – it was wrong. Do I expect a reciprocal apology from her? No. But that is besides the point.
The question that I ought to ask myself now isn’t whether or not I forgive the Cat Lady for what I believe to be a great amount of hurt done unto me, but whether or not I am ready to move on from the constant reliving and regurgitating of bad memories. And I am.
We can most certainly hold all of this against me, but I ask of you to consider the following: when was the last time you were willing to publicly and proactively admit that you were wrong? I choose right now to lead my life with less contempt, and do so publicly in hopes that you will too.
Image via Flickr (user: begnaud)
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