Regrets

I don't regret much. I feel that living with them is a waste of time and energy. That being said, I do have a few. They're mainly things that I didn't say or times that I didn't stand up for myself. I tend to let people walk all over me and belittle me at times. While this happens I have so many things that run through my head. Things I could do. Things I could say. The fear of confrontation stops me in my tracks, however, and I accept the lashes of name calling and using and verbal abuse.

I know that I shouldn't allow this to happen and that I need to stand up for myself, and I'm slowly learning how to do this, but I just don't like hurting other people's feelings. I like for everyone to be happy and there to me no animosity in between. I've even gone as far as accepting the blame for something that was not at all my fault to begin with and apologizing because it's easier that we. We put it past us and move on.

Take the whole situation with Daddie. We got in this huge fight and went from seeing/talking to each other everyday to not speaking for almost 6 weeks. What was the fight about? I really can't tell you, to be honest. All I know is now he's back to asking me advice about women and sending me texts with what most people would deem inappropriate language between a father and daughter. (Read: It's the FUCKING Catalina Wine Mixer!)

Did we talk about what happened? No. Did we apologize to each other? Nope. We just pretended like it didn't happen and moved on. Not the healthiest way to deal with my problems, but it's soo much easier. We don't have to get into the whole 'tell me how this makes you feel' conversations.

Another example would be this evening. Papa came to pick me up from church (10 weeks and 5 days sans car, but who's counting?) and as we were three blocks away The Bubs mom calls. She's running late and wants to know if I can go pick up Bubs and meet her some..... her phone dies. I kid you not. We sat at the church for a bit and finally after 15 minutes decide to go way across town to drop him off at home, before making the 25 minute trip back to our house. Why did I agree to this? Well for starters, I love my brother and am not about to leave him at a place where a man was shot and killed a week ago. Number two, she knows that she can call and I'll stop what I'm doing to help because I love him. I don't mind helping, at all, I just feel like I'm being taken advantage of at times.

Oy. A therapist would have so much fun with me, wouldn't they?