Do you ever wonder at how you arrived at the exact point in life you currently inhabit? Question what compound set of convoluted decisions took you precisely to this place and this time rather than to the myriad alternative existences you may have had – or is it just me?
The dizzying going round and round in circles ‘what if?’ game drives me crazy, and I try so hard not to play it, but sometimes I can’t help but look back at my life and try to pinpoint exactly where I went wrong – not just once, but on a multiplicity of occasions when seemingly innocuous and inert choices ignited into explosive conflagrations resulting in deep chasms and toxic shockwaves, altering irrevocably the long-term landscape not only of my life but also the lives of those all around me.
Living with the fluctuating ebb and flow of recurring depressive episodes hasn’t helped, either. Over the years it has definitely clouded my thinking, twisted my logic, created overwhelming confusion, and has had me basing major life-changing decisions on what I can see now to be the flimsiest of foundations. The truth is I don’t always know what warped reasoning lies behind each particular decision I’ve made along the way, but nevertheless I know that make them I did, and so have no option but to live with them whether I like them or not.
And so by far the hardest truth I find myself facing in life is that the past cannot be changed no matter what, it can only be accepted and moved on from – but oh, in my deepest, darkest hours of tortuous self-doubt it all feels so much easier said than done…