In Which I Begin to Forgive Myself

OK, so I'm just going to ramble in here because I don't write enough in here and I think writing is good for you, except for yesterday on the light rail when I had a notebook with me and I was writing my thoughts and I ended up writing "MY LIFE IS A WASTE" in giant letters.

I've made a lot of stupid choices in my life and I have to learn to move on so that I can make good choices in the future, but I also have to fotgive myself for making such stupid choices. If I am to believe that I was depressed for two years (which I was), then that is to believe that I was mentally ill. And I'm not saying that as an excuse to end all excuses -- after all, I could not commit murder or a bank and be released on my own recognizance upon telling police that I'm depressed -- but I am saying that to pat myself on the back a little bit. I wasn't Jakey ***** when I was in New York. I had been depressed for nearly a year by the time I was there, and then upon arrival I was like, "OKAY, CITY OF 8 MILLION! OKAY, COMMUTER CAMPUS WHERE I KNOW ABSOLUTELY NO ONE! WELCOME ME WITH OPEN ARMS! FIX ME!"

It didn't work that way. See, when I was a freshman at Stout, I was scared shitless, too -- but I was also naive, confident, and I put myself out there. I won the ThinkFast Trivia Challenge. I was in a sexually charged, provocative play. I floated around, and while I gradually did find my own posse (Season One of The UW to my most loyal readers), I still made sure to find friends and acquaintances from various groups.

I know if that Jakey had been in Brooklyn College, he could have made it. He would have tried out for the acting program in April, and either enrolled in that major if he made it or found another one to embrace. He would have finally been able to study something he had great passion for, and he would have excelled. Again, I'm not saying this to justify the fact that I had a great opportunity and completely blew it, nor to excuse the fact that I completely wasted $16,000 of my mother's precious pre-recession money; but I'm saying this to let myself down easy. I wasn't there. I wasn't myself. I had been broken, almost sleeping, for a very long time.

Of course, this does nothing to change where I am now: 22, living with my parents, working a 40-hour-a-week retail job, all talk and no action. I am also a disgusting hairy beast and can't afford the laser removal, but that is neither here nor there. I am gradually learning that the only person who held me back all these years was myself (and I always knew that, deep down), but I can only achieve my goals if I forgive that person first.