The past is a nasty thing. I would say funny, but it's not.
We all remember things differently. All memories and experiences are clouded by our own emotional turmoil. I'm beginning to understand just how much my past is clouded by my own fucked-up mind. I hate my genetics. I wish I had started taking medicine sooner. Maybe if my mother had taken me seriously, or maybe if I had tried harder to convince her, then I wouldn't be in the state I am right now.
Maybe maybe maybe. I disgust myself. People are right about me. I am a bitch. Selfish, self-absorbed, and so forth. I'm surprised Brock married me - he knows the full extent of my personality.
I hate the things I have done in the past. The way I have acted. Because of me, I lost the best friend I had. I'd love to go back and bash myself in the head. Everything I did was guided by the fucked up emotions in my chemically unbalanced mind. I guess it's only fitting that I suffer the punishment of regret and disgust, after all I've done.
I am, to say the least, disappointed in myself. And I will spend the rest of my life wondering how I could believe that I was better than that.
To all of those I have hurt, I am sorry. And to you C, the one I hurt the most, sorry can't begin to describe it. If I'd only had a mirror, back then, to see myself for what I truly was, maybe I wouldn't have acted and done the things I did.
The only good thing that came out of that year and a half was Brock. He changed my life around. If only it had been sooner.
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