Thursday, May 22, 2014

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

In 2008, I had to make a decision. Whichever choice I made, I thought it would kill me to forgo the other. I felt as though I were being torn in two, and I wasn't very well put together even before all that came up.

I tried for the longest time to avoid making that choice. To dream up some way to have things both ways. If I had been a more whole person back then, maybe I could even have found a better way, I don't know. Certainly I could have come to a firm conclusion faster, which would have been easier for all parties concerned.

I thought I had made my decision, but then all at once I was uncertain again. I am not sure how close this situation came to killing me, but I know that I spent a lot of time thinking about ways in which I might suffer a fatal accident, and thus be spared having to make that goddamned decision.

The situation as it stands is far from perfect. None of us has everything we wanted. But I can live with it. Or anyway, I've stopped wishing I were dead.

But how I wish I had not caused so much needless pain to those others. There is no upside to that, and no way to reduce the shame I feel at how I treated the ones who were dearest to me.