I am all for people taking responsibility for their actions. Pull yourself up by the boot straps. Make your own destiny. Ya know all that good stuff. It isn’t that I don’t believe in it because I do. It is just that in the middle of my self pity I got to thinking… “where did everything go wrong? Where did my life get thrown off the tracks of what was meant to be?”
Then it was identified. I can pinpoint the exact moment my life went haywire. It was a conversation with my dad. He told me that because of his nincompoop actions I was being stripped of an honor that I worked toward for years on end.
So that brings me to Truth #2. I blame my father for so much in my life. I blame him. I was talking to my mom about this. She asked if I had expressed myself to him. I haven’t. Honestly, I don’t see what the point would be. Hey dad you totally fucked up my life.
With his depressed suicidal self that might just send him right over the edge. The sad sad naked truth… I am debating whether that would really be a bad thing or not.